Close enough to see, the withering reflection. The ripples upon the mirrored surface. Keeping up with our expectations. Your expectations. Who would listen if not you. I stopped a long time ago. The day, the hour, I don’t quite remember. I just know that I stopped. It was easier that way. Easier to go with you down that road.
Was it a lie?
Only to myself.
I walked away from you, with you. I made the choice and now I don’t know how to retrace the steps. I don’t know how to get you back. Penance, apologies, prayers, tears… nothing works. Even honesty… perhaps it was cowardice which failed us… I don’t remember.
The truth is I truly don’t remember the reason. I remember lying, fighting, trying to keep you quiet. I remember it being easier to hide you. Every week I let a piece of you go silent. I let you follow and in turn I let you lose your voice.. I know you are here with me, watching and silent.
I know it is your voice which is silent, though you shout out through the words. It is a relief that they keep coming, for when our words and thoughts mingle and I forget which it is which is speaking it makes me sad and happy. Who was speaking Enreal? Was it you or me?
Journals Of Enreal 
I see her… I see Enreal…. with you… in you… all around you… she’s pretty amazing, really…. and seamlessly merges in to and away from you… but, never really away. She is pretty forgiving…. understanding and compassionate to a fault… and of course she knows you… and that you will always be there for her, as she is for you. She is one with you, even when you can barely notice her presence and think you have lost her… she lies silently in wait… confident that you will miss her enough to find her again…and again…
How do I know all this? She sometimes chats with me and smj… 😉
you’re beautiful smj
thank you for your voice. it was what i needed to hear
Yes, she is still here.
“And the end of all our exploring. Will be to arrive where we started. And know the place for the first time.” T.S. Eliot
Mossy, always the wisest of words. what can I say?
thank you
beautiful enreal, reclaiming ourselves one piece at a time, she is there, has never left, waiting to come home. thanks for this lovely post
sometimes i am not so sure… thanks for your voice
she’s there isn’t she?
like she knows you’re there.
Yes my friend, she knows and I know as well… yet the truth truth we share is a hard reality. one which binds us apart. we are two instead of one… yet there is still magic when we close our eyes. in our dreams we are still one.
thank you for seeing her