My writing these days are rusty. Writing to me has become like a distant friend. I can't seem to let the words fall off the right way. It's almost like they're coming in gasps like an old tap coughing out trickles of water.
No doubt, I still have the imagination of a writer. Still wild, still deep. But, it's like my mind and hands aren't in sync anymore. Sometimes, I write and it seems to me what a toddler wrote. I can't translate thoughts to words fully anymore.
I know it's been a while friend. I knew I'd begun spanning a chasm when I stopped journaling. I knew I'd started digging a hole when I stopped writing during events and church services. I knew I'd begun drawing away when I stopped scribbling unrhymed words behind jotters. I knew we were losing touch when reading, our friend, became a chore. When it became boring and I couldn't get away fast enough from it. I knew my friend that those instants were the signs of the times, of us growing apart.
So, how are you?
Do you miss me? Do you miss the way I carry you around my imaginative mind and lay you down gently to rest on paper? Do you miss the eyes that read you with sparkles and a pang in their chests? Do you miss the way you cause ripples and sensations across space? Do you miss the way you're chewed and satisfyingly swallowed? Do you?
Cos I miss you, Ol' friend. I miss your persistent knocks on the doors of my mind. I miss the random images you form, the way you make my heart pound with excitement, the way you make my hands itch for ink, a blank space on a device... anything to lay you down and engrave you forever in space. I miss your creative twists, your unfathomable depth, I miss the way you lit a fire in my eyes and soul. I miss the ripple you created within me. The beautiful chaos.
And I just want to tell you Ol’friend, that I hope we meet again. That once again we dance together to the rhythm of our companion, Life. That we scribble struck ideas about it from our perspective. That once again we clink glass and laugh at memories as we casually run through them with the help of a keypad. That once again we shake hands, touch minds and cause sparks. That once again whilst we hug, we rub minds together and cause the friction of creativity. I hope we become comfortable in each other's spaces, that like lovers we communicate a thousand words in silence. That like close friends, we complete each other's sentences and like soulmates, we understand that we are meant to be. Forever.
Love,
Témi.
This was so beautiful, I could literally see you having a conversation with writing in my head