I’d rather stay on the fringes of my weakness,
Because all I see is people pushing, pushing;
Too afraid to listen,
Too distant to care.
In the moments where no one is beside me,
When I notice the absence of those who pulled away,
Whom I have “left”,
Because using that word, it implies choice;
When I see that there is no one left to talk to,
And I pray because at least he hears me,
At long last, before it’s not my choice,
I am no longer afraid that I will die alone.
When I am forced to lie,
And shape what I mean to say in a way that wont make your spirit wretch against God,
When I mindlessly listen to you complain about problems you won’t try fixing,
When I watch you make the same mistakes,
As I once have,
I think back to the days that I knew for certain I was loved,
And how beautiful they were,
But I know that a greater beauty still is coming.
Yes, it hurts when friends don’t pick up the phone,
It hurts to say definitively that they’ve forgotten,
It hurts to know that whatever is coming will be so radically different,
But it no longer hurts (as much) to say goodbye.
We will all die alone,
We will all experience loneliness,
We all have to be patient in the days before those last breaths,
But in no way does the suffering and waiting match the beauty that is coming.