We're tired. Both of us.
We had come together like two sinking ships in the night,
unprepared for the waves that would wash across our decks,
my vessel steadying firm as I reached out to you,
watching the water engulf you from afar.
You weren't ready, and you disappeared,
the rope still in my hands to save you.
We're tired of fighting.
Both of us, exhausted.
And while it hurt to watch you drift,
I understand the revitalization of
unfamiliar waters and shores,
and perhaps I'll meet you again
on the other side of those islands,
those tropical reefs,
those as-of-yet unnavigated oceans
of our unknown futures.
No need for shame and apology now,
as tired as we are of feeling.
We'll see one another again
when once more we've rested and
have had our fill of the uncharted seas
that lie ahead in anticipation of our journeys.
And I promise not to cast my rope
unless you ask it of me.
And I promise not to board your ship
unless you say you want me.
And from a distance, I'll hail you,
and smile, knowing you're life is just beginning,
and there's so much exploring left to do.
We're tired. Both of us. Exhausted.
I understand the urgent need to rest.