We’re not in this altogether. We’re on separate sides. We don’t like each other.
In fact, we hate each other.
The difference between sides: people who pretend/are misled by a vain leader v. the people who are brutally honest.
We might be related in some way, or at one time were.
We could have attended the same school building in our youth, played on the same playground together or on opposing sides during kick-ball.
We could have held hands or had our first kiss together.
We could have knelt at the very same church altar side by side, at some point in time–
Too long ago to care about an exchange of greeting now.
We were in-laws–
I’ll forever miss you.
We were siblings–
You broke my heart times 3,000. So I choose to never see you again–
You’d willingly break it into more digits.
But that’s no longer important.
We loathe social media, but live there.
It’s tempting to delete years of an online-kept diary of precious moments with people who used to make you laugh, bring a smile.
Who sent a heart emoji once in a while; and exchanged correspondence with a virtual hug.
We were lovers.
We were stupid.
We gained experience and lessons learned.
We chose to forget.
We’ll never reach out again.
Not to childhood friends, not to playmates, bosom buddies, drinking friends, the anti-“Kool-aid” gang of anybody representing a political party…
And not to co-affiliate marketers–
Because it’s too enormous, too upsetting to bear.
It’s hard to deal with. It’s much too hard to handle in a quiet time,
–in a personal moment when those people are now just internet peeps.
They’re not physically present.
Some or most never were.
You’re not alone in how you feel.
They feel the exact same way.
Anybody can read it on their walls, on their internet media posts–
If they’re brave enough to text words of anger, despair, or plain disagreement.
These people will always carry a significant meaning inside your heart–
No matter the exposures.
Thoughts will reflect back; you’ll think of their smiles, the light in their eyes…
…you will miss them.
Those are the people you ran with–
…in fields, on tracks, on debate teams, on courts, in school/work competitions for promotions–in life.
They make up some of the good memories, even;
–not all bad–not even now.
Hate became real.
But that no longer matters, either.
It becomes easier to let them go on resenting, hating,
–not hearing your truth that you’ve had to be soundless about.
And that you still care for them and always will.
Speaking your mind, a ‘no-no’. And forget the heart-
Real friends believe in each other for a lifetime, like great marriages do.
And great families.
Minor things, you’ll be blamed for somebody saying something that you didn’t say.
Somebody feeling something that you never had a part in…
And you, yourself, will blame somebody for something that they never felt, never said, never thought to do… and never did do.
And never will.
It’s life on the internet, it’s dirty politics in social media.
Because it’s in our world, in our nation.
Be glad that you’re not an active MLMer…
Imagine what your reputation would be like just for having “freedom of speech” while still trying to make a living that way.
There’s no real freedom of speech, seemingly so.
Love has waxed cold.
Call it what you want, even if you want to say that it’s the Biblical end times.
I call it being human.
Being human beings.
Ugly parts are going to turn up eventually.
Nobody is immune to it,
–like nobody is immune to the COVID-19.
We’re living day to day. Literally.
People who ignore it, the fickleness of people–
People who pretend that they don’t think about it or that they are “strong”– really are not strong. Because being strong is facing matters.
Being strong is mentioning it. Being strong is finding a way to rid it. Being strong is finding solutions in personal life, to start with–not just in a nation.
Being strong is saying that its affect is taking its toll.
Being strong is admitting that we are each human beings, that nobody is immune to feeling this way at times.
Especially at this time.
Being weak is putting up a facade of artificial armor–then purposely tormenting people about how they currently feel about a matter regarding the affects in our Country, in our families, among our once-upon-a-time friends.
And making sport of them having the virus–how very wicked of a human to do that to another human being.
We sort out the artificial friends from the true friends. Problems have a way of doing that without our help, rather.
Tender, loving care was always a rare gift, anyway.
It takes a universal person to know how to give true compassion and love to others–for that ‘magical’ lifetime of friendship.
Maybe it’s living simply again.
Never opening social media; for a while at least.
Maybe it’s hibernating for the cause of our own healths, just as much as saving lives.
Maybe we’re triggered too easily.
Maybe we weren’t meant to stay in people’s lives by social connection, just in memory.
Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel; whatever we make it be.
Tomorrow’s always a new day.
It’s okay to feel the sorrow of it.