A long time ago, I sat around a campfire with my closest friends in the whole world.
They were to me as family was to others. I considered them my brothers and sisters.
I remember sitting around one October, around this great big fire. Of course, there was someone playing guitar, and we were singing along to our favourite songs. I remember the feeling of the fire being just that bit too hot for comfort and the steam rising off your damp boots and mingling with the smoke from the fire. The flames would dance on the trees surrounding us and all that broke the silence of that clear night in the forest was the lilting of our voices, our bright laughter and the crackling of wood on the fire.
I remember at these gatherings that I would look across the group and try to catch an eye. Catch a Something; a wink, a nod or a knowing glance. I never got anything back, except that unlimited Friendship that kept us coming back to that wonderous place, time and again.
For the longest time, that was all I lived on; Pure Plutonic Love. And if I’m honest, I still thrive on it. I live for it. A smile from my closest friends can keep me on this side of the Line for days, before I need another fix.
So when the Earth began to shift and change about my feet and those friendships mingled with the fire’s smoke and disappeared into the cold night air, I turned inwards.
I began to write Music and Words.
I wrote. And wrote. Dots and words, all heavy and dripping with the memories of my friends. Many of those, who I have shown my scribblings to, responded enthusiastically. They encouraged me. I was warmed again with their praise. I wrote to others many times, trying again and again to connect-
But no one ever wrote back.
I waited some time. My Poems became darker and my Music became thinner.
But still no one wrote.
There was this boy I used to imagine existed somewhere. Someone like me. Someone kinder then me, though. Someone who would put up with my meanings and noises. Someone who would take interest in them too.
A Best Friend and Lover.
Life has changed in many ways for me in the last year. I have fallen, and been picked up again by those who love me. I have spent long nights awake worrying and crying and making love. I have fought, wrote, smoke, drank, partied, practiced and played;
Spring made me mad and Summer made me stumble.
In the Autumn I found something glistening amongst the leaves
And Winter made me think once again of those cold evenings spent around the fire.
And it made me realized something too…
He wasn’t sitting across the fire from me, all those years ago.
He was in the Forest itself.
I’ve found him at long last-
He wrote back to me.