...like talking in a tunnel

I thought about being alone today. I thought, "this is something I have grown accustomed to" being alone, in quiet spaces. I have been alone for most of my life I think. Solitude is a familiar place, my old stomping grounds. Being around unfamiliar faces, meeting new people and engaging in conversation, giving myself over and opening up; that is actually something new and foreign and something I'm still struggling to understand how to do properly. But being alone, I know how to do this well, though sometimes I play helpless and unschooled, it is a craft I have perfected. Just ask the person I spent the last five years of my life with. He will tell you, I was alone even when he was around.

Stray feathers and tufts of fur. These are the small things that gather at my feet. Seed pods float in the water as ducks flip and dive, bobbing for food between the fallen leaves. Rowers row, gliding along. Tree branches curl and bend, a watery wind soaks through me. I stay warm from exertion. Blood flows to my cheeks. I am running. My hands go numb and afterwards fingers fumble with keys. Two hands that fail me, I think "what is the purpose?" It takes me ten minutes to open my door, and then...

and then the train whistle blows, a plane flies overhead, my phone rings. I answer "hello" and hear the familiar voice of an old friend. We haven't spoken in years... six or seven to be almost exact. He is calling from across the world. Okinawa, Japan. I hear sliding doors opening and closing and I have this feeling... like talking in a tunnel, there is space. It's been so long I don't know what to say, where to start. So I say "I have to visit you in Japan" and I mean it. It is something I have to do and something I will do someday. I will go to Japan. I will visit my friend. I know this, like I know I will fall asleep tonight around 11pm with my cat curled at my side twitching as he dreams. I thought about Japan today, and the "sea of trees" at the base of Mount Fuji.