Honestly, this is not the post I wanted to write

When people come into our lives, seldom do we even consider the fact that one day they will leave us. Everyone you will ever love will one day leave you or die, Tyler Durden told us in Fight Club. Yet we don't think about it. Either because we're caught up in the moment(s) or because we subconsciously choose to forego the mere thought of the end, it's not a typical consideration at the early stages of a relationship. Any relationship.

I don't mean to be apocalyptic, but in the circle of things the universe has a way of reverting back to the way it was. Everything old is new again and in general, things seem to end where they started… ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

And so those we love can go away sometimes. They might return, visit, come to see us. In those moments we may relive that initial feeling as if magically transported through time and space. But even that comes to an end. And then distance sets in. And we miss people and things, feelings and emotions. We feel "saudades."

This is all in reference to how people leave us, or are left by us, in the course of life. I'm feeling it more today because sometimes home can be so very far away. Or at least feel that way. And because you can't go back there. And because of the prodigal son, who is sometimes a daughter, and how one should in fact give to one just as one gives to the other. But yet, out of the two, the prodigal and the one who remained, who is the father, who is sometimes a mother, to have coffee out on the porch with? Who will (s)he choose to spend the quiet moments next to? And is it even a choice, or just another of those subconscious decisions we're not aware we make?

And it also has to do with perception and reality. Who are we, really? Pessoa said, "I am not who you think I am. I am not who I think I am. I am what I think you think I am." We perceive ourselves to be one way when we're really not like that at all. And it is so with those who come into our lives, those same ones who leave us. Are we really loved? If so why? And what about the individual is so worthy of so worthy a feeling?

Often we are left before we ever get to answer that question.

I don't know why I'm loved or even what about certain people I love so much. Sometimes it's beyond words. I can't explain it, or understand it. And somehow, that makes all the sense in the world.

Have a safe trip back.