The vestiges of winter had already been shed and the spring crept up slowly behind it, ebbing and flowing with the rise and fall in temperature. I was alone still. This home was shut away from everyone the way I preferred it. Me, plants, hot coffee, warm bread, and the sounds of a wakening earth.
The mailbox was empty again and I could not decide how much connection I craved, whether a handshake, a kiss, or spit in my face. I had convinced myself that the being alone was healing, that if I just spent enough time with myself, settling, turning over like compost, getting rich with time that I could welcome the small seed of a new relationship. Five years had gone and I was fallow, empty. Did I really want connection or just to feel connected to someone? Anyone?
Morning musings amidst the sounds of birds and snapping twigs from some unseen animal gave way to the stillness I had learned to hold tight. Then the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Peter?”
“This is he.”
“It’s… Sofia.”
My chest tightened and my breath left me.
“Hi! Umm… I didn’t expect your call. How are you?”
“Good. We just haven’t talked in a while. I know the last tour did a number but I figured maybe I’d give a quick hello. You’re probably busy — “
“No, I’ve got time.”
We started at the hard part, when we left that righteous war with the type of wounds no one could see, the indelible type that led me into my solitude. There was Philip, Constance, Javier, Shawn… all gone. We were still here and the guilt was heavy.
“Remember how Javier used to come in and talk all nasally?” I said.
“‘Hiiiii guuuuuyysss…”
I let out the most warm and powerful air from lungs that had struggled to breathe in a life. It kept coming like I was waking up too. It kept coming until my eyes filled with tears and I was quaking with sheer joy. I remembered, all right. So well. When we were just so young and hopeful. So bound by duty, so fresh-faced, and without blemishes. My smile was wide, so wide Sofia could hear it.
“You haven’t laughed like that in a long time. It’s good to hear that.”
Suddenly I was filled with sadness that came over like a wave, of all the emotion and mourning I kept inside that never left. Of all the silence I stuffed into my belly because it was so hard to feel.
To say thank you felt inadequate. To say I needed that laugh and that release of pain… words fail me.
“Sofia. My god, I’m so glad you called me. This was… this was really great. Let’s talk again really soon. I mean it.”
I could hear how unexpected the invitation was. “Oh! Of course! Tomorrow at maybe 6?”
“Please.”
We hung up and I thought again about my need to be alone. Solitude is nice but connection… albeit brief or fleeting, is something anyone needs. And now I had it.