the road is a gift

The black sky blankets me as I sit behind this house, writing words that are emerging from an unknown place. The scattered stars visible at this distance from the city take me back to another house, another year, other words. Sitting in the darkness, the words pouring forth feelings that could not be spoken. The chill of the night air is greater here, now, tonight. The stars are fewer despite the greater distance; the map of constellations appears as a maze rather than the map of my future I once imagined when I looked up into the patterns of tiny, white sparkles.

Today was one of the longest days I can remember. Barely any sleep last night, the thoughts flying wildly about my head, my body restless, unable to find comfort in the solitude and silence. All day has been an excruciating process of waiting. Waiting for news, for knowledge, for reassurance, for anything. Images flashing through my head. The reality of today haunting me in brief, recurring, time intervals. Nostalgia returning me to a time when events like these were never imagined. Back to days in the mountains, laughter, the unspoken words carried between eyes, souls, that knew without sound. Back to nights when promises were whispered, warmth and the comfort of the deepest type of familiarity. Back even to a conversation only a few nights ago. Of lasting friendship, eternal love, gratefulness for an indestructible bond. Fears alluded to but never directly spoken. Tears falling on each end of a phone line, needing words now to bridge the gap where two souls once met in silence.

It is late now and the waiting has come to an end. The news is good, so far. The operating room his haven today, the surgeons his heros. His mom said he was in good spirits when they took him back at 6 a.m. this morning, his vibrant soul and witty banter a shield of protection from fear. By late afternoon, he was still in surgery, but beyond the critical stage, so they said. From the operating room to recovery and then to the ICU, where he now lays, resting peacefully I hope. My thoughts remain with him, wishing I was there to tell him how proud I am of him. But my thoughts, my words, will have to wait a little while longer.

An afternoon call from his mom, followed by another from his girlfriend. Then this last late-night call, again from his mom. My heart skipped too many beats when the phone rang and I saw her name appear on the screen. Hands shaking uncontrollably, praying as I answered, but even the relief and gratitude has brought a flood of tears. A greater realization of “what might have been”.

So much of my life I shared with this man. It is no longer my place to sit by his side day and night, but the bond we have will last a lifetime. I have seen the happiness he has found; he has seen my own happiness. Sharing our separate happiness with one another has only brought greater joy to the both of us. But it is hard to explain, hard to describe to others who do not understand.

And so I sit here tonight, alone with my thoughts, the feelings finally rising to the surface, my attempts to keep them buried no longer an option. In whatever context it may be, this man became a part of my “family” and his place in my heart will remain for the rest of time. He has a long road ahead of him. A road that may be treacherous and frustrating, disheartening and discouraging. But he has a road, wherever it may lead. For that, I am so thankful. And I find comfort in the reassurance that he knows he will never have to walk that road alone.