easter(n)

How to say? How to acknowledge? Privacy means privacy, and thankfully I'm notable for being able to state the obvious in words that make things not so, so perhaps this is the best way to break through a multiple-month logjam of silence and say what needs saying.(Inscrutable? Sorry; this is a private message posted semi-publicly.)

There is no 'me and you,' and never has been; this funny friendship has meant many things over the years, most unspoken and unacknowledged, but there for both of us. Easter brought you back to me, reminded me of why I have Life A here in Huntsville and Life B in Atlanta, reminded me of why I think the drive is worth it and why I'm unlikely ever to have a life, singular, in one place or the other.

I've missed having you around. We were both morons, and had we the bravery or the bluntness to speak up earlier, we might have prevented the months of silence. Did the audience clap and cheer? I think they may have, but I was blissfully unaware.

We owe him a favor for making us talk to each other once again. I hated the months of seeing your number scroll by in my list of friends, wanting to call but never doing so, never certain if my voice would be welcomed on the other end of the line, too shy to email and say, "Why?" because I feared an answer that, it turns out, was not the one that was coming.

Morons, as I said.

Easter is rebirth and spring, and joy for my religious friends, of which we neither are, really. I will not begrudge them their celebrations if they do not begrudge me mine; mine is as different as it is heartfelt.

I missed you.
I missed her.

It came through on Easter morning, a non-religious resurrection of spirit without ceremony or artifice.

Some celebrations must be taken on their own terms.

Welcome back. There was always a place with your name on it. It's good to see you in it again.