Time after time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirrow, and each will smile at the other welcome, and say, it here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has love you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows your heart. Take down to love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes peel your own image from the mirrow. Sit. Feast on your life ----- Derek Walcott
It's hart being left behind. I wait for Him, not knowing where he is, wondering if he's okay. It's hard to be the one who stays.
I keep myself busy. Time goes faster that way.
I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work untill I'm tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. Everythig seems simple, untill you think about it.
Why is love intensified by absence?
Long ago, men went to sea, and woman waited for them, stnading on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship.
Now i wait for Him.
He vanishes unwillingly, without warning.
I wait for Him.
Each moment ia as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting.
Why has He gone where I can follow?
* But because truly being here is so much; becouse everything here apparently needs us, the fleeting world, which in some strange way keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all *
- from
The Ninth Duino Elegy
Rainer Maria Rilke
I waited for You, and now you're here.
