Are you there, God? It's me. Susan.
Don't worry, nothing's wrong. I'm not going through any crazy crisis. I'm not even here to ask for anything. Well, I'm not asking for stuff, anyway. I know this sounds strange, sort of coming-out-of-nowhere like, but we have some catching up to do. Even that sounds strange, since it's not like we never chat. But something's gone awry, I feel. Something's gone totally amiss.
I've been noticing this strange... distance? creeping up on me for maybe two or three years now. As if a slow moving sludge I didn't even recognise as something that could ever really affect me has been taking me some place that seems far from where I started. Far from you. Honestly, it's as if our relationship has somehow changed. Like you picked up and left. Or just stopped speaking.
I used to hear you so clearly, like we were two friends hanging out over coffee and there was a back and forth conversation going on between us. And then one day, not any particularly memorable day, I realized that conversation had stopped. Coffee break over, back to our separate desks -- you behind a large mahogany desk in the boss's office, me back to my cubicle and counting the minutes until lunch time.
I don't mean to complain, or sound like I'm blaming you for this feeling of quiet. I've heard all my life that it's not you, it's never you that steps away. It's always us.
But what if it isn't always us? What if, for some reason way beyond my comprehension, you in your infinite wisdom chose to test my faith by seeing if I'd follow you even if I couldn't hear you? I'm a little confused as to why you'd do this, but I'm pondering it as a possibility. After all, apparently most folks don't hear you like I did at one point, and they still follow. And I'm learning that "hearing you" is different than I once thought, anyway.
I guess I'm learning that. So if you're listening, it'd be cool if we could hang out again like old times. Even if it's not exactly like old times.
Sincerely, Susan
Don't worry, nothing's wrong. I'm not going through any crazy crisis. I'm not even here to ask for anything. Well, I'm not asking for stuff, anyway. I know this sounds strange, sort of coming-out-of-nowhere like, but we have some catching up to do. Even that sounds strange, since it's not like we never chat. But something's gone awry, I feel. Something's gone totally amiss.
I've been noticing this strange... distance? creeping up on me for maybe two or three years now. As if a slow moving sludge I didn't even recognise as something that could ever really affect me has been taking me some place that seems far from where I started. Far from you. Honestly, it's as if our relationship has somehow changed. Like you picked up and left. Or just stopped speaking.
I used to hear you so clearly, like we were two friends hanging out over coffee and there was a back and forth conversation going on between us. And then one day, not any particularly memorable day, I realized that conversation had stopped. Coffee break over, back to our separate desks -- you behind a large mahogany desk in the boss's office, me back to my cubicle and counting the minutes until lunch time.
I don't mean to complain, or sound like I'm blaming you for this feeling of quiet. I've heard all my life that it's not you, it's never you that steps away. It's always us.
But what if it isn't always us? What if, for some reason way beyond my comprehension, you in your infinite wisdom chose to test my faith by seeing if I'd follow you even if I couldn't hear you? I'm a little confused as to why you'd do this, but I'm pondering it as a possibility. After all, apparently most folks don't hear you like I did at one point, and they still follow. And I'm learning that "hearing you" is different than I once thought, anyway.
I guess I'm learning that. So if you're listening, it'd be cool if we could hang out again like old times. Even if it's not exactly like old times.
Sincerely, Susan
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