why is it that, so often, I read what you write or see what you see and miss you so awfully. As though sometimes, across comets worthy of lives, there was a time that I knew you. That we ran together as children. That we saw the same skies. I write this hoping you and your wife will not misconstrue what I am saying. But I miss you. c
I think we both understand what you are saying. In fact, it spurred quite an interesting conversation. Sometimes, you meet someone and think, “We’ve been this way before. I knew you when.” Even more rarely, if you are the odd artistic duck, born with pen in hand or colours that sing, you meet another of your species. It’s hard to explain to others, being different. But when you meet one of your own …
Suffice it to say I miss you too. Hell, most of the time, I even miss myself a little and wonder where I’ve gone. Glad Maria is teaching me to keep the few with me when I disappear.
Raw, Naked Art 
why is it that, so often, I read what you write or see what you see and miss you so awfully. As though sometimes, across comets worthy of lives, there was a time that I knew you. That we ran together as children. That we saw the same skies. I write this hoping you and your wife will not misconstrue what I am saying. But I miss you. c
LikeLike
I think we both understand what you are saying. In fact, it spurred quite an interesting conversation. Sometimes, you meet someone and think, “We’ve been this way before. I knew you when.” Even more rarely, if you are the odd artistic duck, born with pen in hand or colours that sing, you meet another of your species. It’s hard to explain to others, being different. But when you meet one of your own …
Suffice it to say I miss you too. Hell, most of the time, I even miss myself a little and wonder where I’ve gone. Glad Maria is teaching me to keep the few with me when I disappear.
LikeLike
Maria is wonderful..
LikeLike