Where did you do?

Where did you go, the person we knew for so long?

Did it happen slowly over years, without our noticing,

or suddenly in that unexpected triggering? Who can

say and yet, at some point, it was clear, you had put on

new costume, covered the self we had known for so

long, and made your way into a new world where we,

it seemed, could not follow, removed as it was from

all we had known together; alien, unwelcoming and

so strange to who you had been for yourself, and for us. 

We could see you, but not touch you, in that way

we once had done. You were there in physical form,

but gone in other ways, as if you had never been.

It was and is, a death without a body or any finality,

which allows no time or place for grieving, even as,

the grief grows, broad and deep across the remains

of the days we had known and shared together. Where

did you go, the person we knew for so long? Are you

still there, in that nature which was so familiar to us,

and to yourself? Unlike real death, will there be a 

resurrection unto Self, and unto us? No-one can say.
But it teases, that possibility because how can one’s 

nature be erased? It must remain as the foundation of who

and what you were and are. And so all we can do is

wait. Perhaps it is time to stop asking: Where did you go?
And to simply trust, that you will return, in your own

good time, for how can it be possible that someone can

leave themselves, and those they love and who love

them in return, behind? The time for questions is past.
We wait, patiently, until you return to yourself and to us.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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