done, completed, released

Ten years ago.

We shared a peanut butter sandwich during recess. One shared my seat on the bus ride home. We hugged when we got off at the corner of a football field. I went left, and one turned right.

Ten years later.

Hope wanes. Faith falls. Believers sigh. Patience fades. Constancy plummets. Freedom flies. Trust dies. Guarded, we try. Detached, we are.

Perhaps, trust is the steam of a morning shower swelling in the surrounding warmth of air. Its hug embraces the body with a tickle of water particles. The soothing mist lets us breathe as its honesty lies on the skin it dissolves. This trust of a tranquil setting freshens our senses. Sporadic goose bumps shape from this feeling of comfort, safety and home. A contagious shiver swells; it is the compassion pouring over us and dripping to our toes. Its overwhelming joy clings to our skin through the last breath of vaporised water. It is always there; ready to wrap a warm blanket of affection around the heart -- washing away everything but us at finest.

Morning shower is all I ask for. I may be unforgiving, I may be demanding. But, when one plays the game of judgement in friendship, I call that a violation of trust - nearing to betrayal.

Then again, I do wish a mere peanut butter sandwich would counter-balance everything. But, we are not children. Not anymore.