...but what if you're not.
And how hard does the curtain crash down when you finally get the message: you are not a part of a world you once dwelled in. The show is over, at least for you. You've already taken the final bow and didn't even know it at the time.
Just how hard does that curtain fall? Does the thick, luxurious velvet even make a sound? Did anyone else notice it?
It's one of those things we don't like to talk about. We say we treasure honesty and baring of the soul, but when it hurts too much, we change the channel. I know I do. I can't do anything about Somalia so I better not think about it too much. Ah, there's "What Not to Wear!"
Click.
It is not an overt thing on the part of that circle of friends that went on spinning while I had to step off for awhile. It wasn't something of which they were aware, their thoughts or actions were never intentional.
No, I have learned it goes far deeper than that, an achingly slow evolution of inclusion or exclusion, of thoughts, of heart, of desires to even be with me, such things that dwell in the folds of the curtain backstage and of which most, if not all, are unaware.
So, off that planet whirls into the horizon and I remain behind, treading water, and looking for the path that will lead me to satisfaction and fulfillment in a different land which lay before me the moment a big, Paint horse stopped in his tracks and I tilted forward over the saddle.
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