Monday, 7 March 2011
I can't remember if I read this somewhere, whether it was on a film or maybe someone said it to me, but it has stuck in my mind:
Sometimes, the longest journey is the distance between two people.
I have been thinking about this a lot recently and how vast areas of space can become wedged between two people, pushing them further and further apart. How we can live our lives with someone, share the same house, bed and lifestyle yet be so far apart that bridges are too hard to build. We become stuck in our ways and routines, gently plodding along not realising that our steps are taking us away from what we really want and desire. When we notice how far we have come along a particular road, we try to take short cuts and turn at junctions which although may seem like a fun new destination, the journey will always have to be continued. Distance has to be covered until we stop, turn around and see how far we have drifted from the person that we loved and from ourselves, and this is when we realise that we have been travelling alone. The distance is now too great that we do not recognise them, time and space has distorted faces. We have a choice as to whether to make the long journey back, ironing out the bumps in the road along with way or whether the journey ends.
Sometimes distance is all there is. There has been no moving away or coming together. It just exists as a black hole - a space of unknown from the very start and one that closes when the time is right.