This morning I’m assailed by memories of two summers ago, when I was in Florida, alone, and later out of work and more alone than ever… The Jars of Clay song “Silence” is going through my head, just as it was then, but only in my car, driving to and from church in Jacksonville, 45 minutes each way, just driving there, attending church, then driving home, the same every week. Sometimes (often) it would rain, and the quiet of the car surrounded me at a stoplight as the clear ebb and flow of the song washed through me. I remember the feeling exactly… The determination, the veneer of soldiering on glossing over the fact that the right question could topple me entirely. I didn’t know where to go or what to do… So many things were in flux, and the uncertainty isolated me more than ever, since I had always treated friendships like the icing of life, something to be pursued and added after everything else was in place, and my ignorance of how to strike up an easy friendship, especially since I knew I would likely move away from that place in short order, surrounded me like a mantle in those midsummer days. Night after night spent sleeping on the couch in the living room, some days not even venturing to brave the rain. It’s not like I didn’t keep up with myself, keep up with life, but if you had caught my eye you would have been met with a distant look.
Last night I dreamed about the warmth of sleeping next to someone, my arms around her, my breath gently moving against the crown of her head. Waking to reality was like a cold wind blowing through me.