Wednesday, December 17, 2008

on adrienne and my constant


You are beauty.

Those are the first words that come to mind as I sit trying to think of what to write of you, of wishes I have for you, and things I remember and love about you. You are beautiful; who you are becoming is beautiful, and so is the person that I have known since day one.

It’s hard to believe there are only a few days left before you pack up in the car and we drive off our separate ways. I know you’re coming back; I know that our friendship is deeper than distance in miles or measurements. I’m not worried about losing you. At the same time, though, I realize that this era, this year of our lives together… it’s done. This is an ending, but also a stunning and brilliant beginning. When we reunite and have the chance to live together again, life will have taken us down different roads, both good and bad. Who knows what those paths will be… who knows what mistakes and triumphs we will have felt.

I know that when you read this you will smile and chuckle on the inside, calling me the nostalgic one between the two of us, especially with such finality seemingly ringing in my words. I guess it’s because I know more than most that so many things can change so quickly, and I am saying goodbye to you with the understanding that we may not get the chance to walk in the door and call eachother ‘roommate’ again. Things change, and that’s okay. I am at peace with whatever future awaits us.

Adrienne Salome, you have changed me (in a good way). So much will I take with me of you, wherever I go, and so many memories I guarantee I will laugh about for years to come. There was turning our balcony into a nest of blankets and sleeping outside all summer under the stars, a drive to Seattle with our bare feet out the open windows and the music loud, becoming close to our neighbors, sitting in the stairwell bundled up in blankets as summer began to slip into autumn.

The most beautiful about your spirit and your heart, though, is not that you were there on the sunny days. You were also there when it rained; when it poured. You were the shoulder I depended on during the most hurtful and drawn-out breakup of my life; you were the one who told me I was not being the intellignt woman I was designed to be; you were the one who curled up next to me on the floor when I found out that a love from long ago was engaged; you were the one who made sure I finished the application to get back into school to pursue my dreams; and more often than not you were the one to set me straight and tell me I was meant for something more.

What might top the cake is tonight. The walls in our apartment are stripped and boxes line the walls where our furniture used to be. It doesn’t look like home anymore. Our lives are packed tightly in cardboard and duct tape, ready to be whisked away to wherever we are headed next. You and I pulled the couch to our sliding glass doors to look out at the brilliance of the fresh snow on the mountain and over the city lights. We put on our shoes, bundled up in blankets, and flung the door wide, just to feel the 7˚ winter wind in our faces and know that we were alive. We turned the music up loud, you put your head on my shoulder, and every few minutes we would sigh. Several moments of silence passed us by.

“How are you?” You asked me.
“I’m happy. Content with where I am at,” I replied.
“I am too. I can feel that God is bigger, and that He is in control, and that His plan is bigger than mine.”

We sat in silence and let the wind sting our face, taking in every word and gust of the breeze. It was simple, but it was one of my favorite memories with you; finding contentedness in life’s small pleasures and moments of peace.

Adrienne Salome Forsythe, you are valient and fearless. I know you admire those traits in others, but I have found them in you. You are my soulmate, my other half, my best confidant and secret-keeper. If I show up out on the town by myself, there is something missing, and everyone knows it. They ask me where you are, why we are apart, why we are doing our own thing. Even the world knows that I was not meant to be having the time of my life without you.

You have been my constant, my deepest friend, my fellow nomad, and the heart beating for the both of ours when my own seemed to flicker and fade.

Thank you. I love you. I can’t wait to see where the road of life takes us.

No comments: