AS I sit at the keyboard, emotions simultaneously overflowing and stilfed I struggle to find the words in which I usually find much comfort. Then, an epiphany: I can't find them, because they are no longer there. They were once.
And perhaps they still are, only in a new form, with new meaning. I am reaching out to them, whole-heartedly, concerned with what this loss could mean, and they reach back further in the opposite direction.
No.
Not so. It is I who have changed. You see, I reach for words that still mean what they meant when we met, but these words no longer hold the same worth they did then, we have outgrown one another.
Also untrue: I have outgrown them, they haven't changed a bit.
Silly of me to think such terms could stay my crutch forever. Some words must, of course,
those 'the's and 'and's of our life, but not these simple adjectives that we allow to define us. Over time 'nice' must be exchanged for 'amiable' and who are we to hold our 'good' words to the standards of 'exceptional' ones? It's only natural, this transformation, yet somehow still surprising.
Surprising because while we know that over time we must grow, we can never surely say where or how the growth will take place. The comfort offered by the sufficient words we've always used dwindles as "sufficient" is ironically no longer enough.
What then?
Are there any options, really..? You can always add an 'ing' to your 'smirk' but that doesn't make it a 'smile'. The challenge is not in learning the new words, or even in using them. The difficulty arises when the old ones must be pushed into the background.
It says something about us: our decision against repressing those familiar words for new, unpredictable ones. But a choice to move forward says even more.
So, I've chosen for me. Forever at a crossroads where knowing meets doing; it's time to let those 'little words' go.
