archives, you & me

You Don’t Talk to Me, but I Feel You There with Me.

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You don’t talk to me.

But my soul reaches out to yours, and in that space I meet you, and we touch once again. Together. Across this endless expanse of space and time.

You don’t talk to me.  

But I feel you there. Beside me. Every step of the way. I felt you there when I took my first step towards greatness and saw the pride welling up in your eyes as you acknowledged and honored what I have become.

You don’t talk to me.  

But I know you miss me just as much as I miss you. I know you feel the expanse that has opened up between us as a huge chasm that can’t possibly be breached. But all chasms can be breached. You just have to try.

You don’t talk to me.

But I feel the touch of your breath as it brushes softly down the back of my neck. The heat of the air as you come to me, inhaling the perfume that you know I will always wear.

You don’t talk to me.

And I still go on. Living the life you always wanted me to live. Doing the things you always encouraged me to do. Becoming the wonder you always told me I would one day become.

You don’t talk to me.

And love pulls at our hearts. Pulling the strings that tie us together, tighter and tighter, until something must give. And that give will be the space that has opened up between you and me.

You don’t talk to me.

But I feel every nuance of your life, your heartache, your joy. I am right there with you, just as I feel you are with me. Not even time and distance can break what this is.

You don’t talk to me.

And I want to say I’m waiting for you. But you know that’s something I can never do. Life is too precious. Too amazing. Too beautiful. And to wait for you implies that I am here, standing still. And that I just can not do.

You don’t talk to me.

And I know you tell yourself you have your reasons too. But your reasons fall like leaves, drifting off from your autumn tree. Leaving your tree bare and naked, forgetting the undeniability that your leaves of love must grow again.

You don’t talk to me.

So all the stories I have to tell you are trapped there, caught up in the emptiness of my yearning throat. Straining to leave, and bless your ears with the touch my words will bring to the space in your mind you have reserved for me.

You don’t talk to me. 

But I keep walking, walking towards the time and space where we will meet once more. To that time when our eyes will brush over each other, and our souls will reach across the room to touch and remember what once was and will always be again.

You don’t talk to me.

And in my darkest moments, all I want is you. And somehow I reach across the distance that stretches between us, and I feel you there with me. You remind me that all is as it should be and give me the courage to get up once again.

You don’t talk to me.

But I still remember the first time I met you, when I had no idea who you were, and had somehow forgotten the many lifetimes our souls had danced together to share this beautiful life. Once, a thousand times, dancing through eternity.

You don’t talk to me.

Why don’t you talk to me?

***

Kim Turfrey is a mother of two who lives in New Zealand and enjoys writing. She was born with a disability, and has used crutches for her whole life. She spent the majority of the first 12 years of her life living mainly in a hospital, away from her family, and now she writes about life as she sees it. You could contact Kim via Facebook.

***

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