Growing up, Richard Bach’s ‘Bridge Across Forever’ was one of those horrid, unputdownable, not-so-little things that filled me with the endless, and now seemingly eternal quest for a soulmate. Many years have passed, and I often wish (perhaps, like so many others) I hadn’t read that damned soppy story after all, life is so much easier without the hope of looking.
That said, there’s something to be said about the hope of love. The easy confidence it chuffs you with, the gaps it fills, the smile it brings. It always makes me cry a little, watching two people in love, watching friends at weddings, watching two people in a place of their own, that no one else can ever fill.
An old, and dear friend is getting married. I know her since she was three, I know her since the days our dolls had parties of their own, and long after we became cool to party. I’ve known her through the upheavals life brings, especially hers, the anxieties of the fashion world, the travesties that followed.
Life’s second chances always hearten me. Despite how everything turns out, despite lying in a daze in a hospital room, all alone, for thirty days and nights, and everything else that follows, life can bring you hope, and life can bring you love. As vows were exchanged last night, I had a sense of the peace she was feeling.
She was beautiful enough to be loved, to be pursued endlessly with flowers, to find patience and resilience in somebody she loved.
Sometimes you don’t know you have been drowning, till you have been saved.
Its probably got something to do with regaining your senses…