September 25, 2012
I knew him quickly, but I knew him well. It's so odd when you come to that point and realize you know someone better than you know yourself.
It isn't long after that before you begin to understand that you comprehend yourself in the light of the other person. You've become intwined. There is a spiderweb that has encompassed your two souls. You feel as if it is a fragile thing at times. Right now I see how fragile it can be.
Yet scientists, the geniuses of the world, they say that spiderwebs are as strong as steel.
Maybe we are not as fragile as we so seem to be.
I remember how strong I felt when the times were good. Steel was an understatement. Now, as bits of spiderwebs stick to my arms and legs, I trust that there are a few more spindled strands holding our souls together like steel. They may be invisible; the realest parts of who we once were have always been unseen to the naked eye anyway.
Yet if I fall, I am not convinced that these few spindled strands would be able to catch me. I wish they would, and they just might, but I will not put my faith in that.
Those strands, though, will act as a bridge. A bridge back. Not to who we once were, but to who we were always meant to be.
There, we will meet in the middle, and the spider will spin us together again.
~FIN~
I knew him quickly, but I knew him well. It's so odd when you come to that point and realize you know someone better than you know yourself.
It isn't long after that before you begin to understand that you comprehend yourself in the light of the other person. You've become intwined. There is a spiderweb that has encompassed your two souls. You feel as if it is a fragile thing at times. Right now I see how fragile it can be.
Yet scientists, the geniuses of the world, they say that spiderwebs are as strong as steel.
Maybe we are not as fragile as we so seem to be.
I remember how strong I felt when the times were good. Steel was an understatement. Now, as bits of spiderwebs stick to my arms and legs, I trust that there are a few more spindled strands holding our souls together like steel. They may be invisible; the realest parts of who we once were have always been unseen to the naked eye anyway.
Yet if I fall, I am not convinced that these few spindled strands would be able to catch me. I wish they would, and they just might, but I will not put my faith in that.
Those strands, though, will act as a bridge. A bridge back. Not to who we once were, but to who we were always meant to be.
There, we will meet in the middle, and the spider will spin us together again.
~FIN~
