Real life- in pieces

I missed you today. I read what you wrote and I wanted to talk to you and tell you how good it made me feel, but you weren't here. I know where you are and where you will always be. But for just a minute, I wanted to pretend you were here and wrap my arms around you. I wanted to smell your smell and bury my face in your neck. I wanted to feel your arms wrap around me, too. I wanted to feel you squeeze me tight against you. Feel you smell my hair, my skin. I wanted to pretend we were still. That nothing had ever happened to bring this sadness, this separation.

I wrap my own arms around myself and try to warm myself in the chilly air of the day. I try not to remember. I pretend. My life is one big theatrical production. Hiding, pretending, numbing the pain, pretending. It is a half life. And behind the scenes...that is where the real life happens, only in pieces. Maybe that is all I can stand to have- real life in pieces. I can't handle a whole real life. Or maybe I don't deserve one for pretending so long. Even now, I keep the secrets of one so others can keep their saint on his pedestal. I try to stay whole. But how many secrets do I have to keep before I crack into pieces. Will they be the pieces of a real life or the pretend life? I hardly know which is which anymore.

I turn inward. I am in here somewhere. My heart beats strong. I have born many things. In some small corner in this body I exist. There is a true me here. I am real. I may be small. Infinite. But I am not pretend. And I can grow from that small piece. I can fill this space, this body with real pieces that connect to make a whole me. I can have a real life. One away from here where I don't have to pretend. I can be new. Whole. Strong. Fearless. I can be Me. I only have to find that infinite piece. Til then, the play goes on....