Swingsets

I remember as kids playing on the swing set.  Aiming high with your feet toward the sky.  You on one swing and your best friend on the other.  Every time you and your friend would begin in opposite motions.  One going forward while the other's going backward.  But slowly, as you each manipulated your motions and speed you would gravitate towards the same rhythm and motion.  After some effort the two of you would be swinging perfectly in sync.  Your perfectly synchronized rhythms formed a connection and it was in that moment as a kid that time seemed to stop.  Nothing else mattered in that moment on that playground except you and your friend.  It seemed that the two of you could carry on like this forever, perfectly in sync.  But inevitably, the perfection always came to an end.  Either one or the other would get caught by a breeze, or brush their foot on the ground and their rhythm would be altered.  Soon it was back to opposites and only with a great deal of effort could you two get back in sync again.

You are my best friend in so many ways and although we are grown, I feel as if we are still kids playing on a swing set.  We are opposites in more ways than one and our motions seem to always be in opposing directions.  When I was moving forward you were pulling backward.  When you began to move forward, I was at a standstill.  I feel as if I can move forward with you now but I can see your motion starting to change again.  I feel as if we are missing that perfect moment of synchronization by only seconds. If we just get into rhythm we can figure this out one way or another.  Because in that moment, in this world, nothing else will matter, except you and me.   I wonder if we will ever get there and it scares me to think not.  I can feel a breeze holding me back and I can see your foot lightly brushing the ground.  The wind and the earth can be fought but I can't do it alone.  Only by combined efforts will we ever find our rhythm.  I'm putting forth mine and I'm waiting for yours, praying it comes.  Praying because no kid wants to swing alone.