Stranger things…

Ten weeks ago I remembered something that happened thirty years ago. It was seemingly insignificant, but is the reason one friendship never blossomed and a mutual friendship, though close and deep, has at times bewildered me because the other friendship never blossomed.

While we sleep, our spinal fluid washes our brain. It is necessary for our thinking. If this did not happen, we would go insane. So we dream. Mostly we don’t remember our dreams, but sometimes we do, or just a glimpse of it.

I was waking, still half asleep, when this memory came to my mind. Suddenly everything made sense. I felt the need to reach out to the person whose friendship never blossomed, bit I could not. There is no way. Then I thought to contact her brother, a friend. No, that would be inappropriate. So I shared my memory with the close friends. I have had ten weeks of silence from one, whilst there has been contact with the husband ‘half’. I have missed my friend, the ‘wife’ half. Both of them are much loved and treasured.

I wish I had not. I am told it is not true. My love for her has not changed. I don’t make things up, I don’t falter in my friendship. I don’t change when I find change.

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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