Blame Less

Blame Less

Igniting the fire and watching it burn obviates a sense of disparity, a move beyond semantics toward an intention, the meaning or purpose of a thing’s happening. As for the case of their friendship, no one knows who ignited its demise, but the point seems to rest beyond the flames, within the fact that they both watch years of presumed depth crumble, essentially, into nothing. That powdery ash of nothingness, she rubs between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, disgusted, loathsome, dejected and forgotten, but the guilty party refuses to apologize. Despite the efforts to burn it down, neither can fully forget or let go of the memory of a life that once was. She, of course, laid down the kindling in the eyes of the other. The other, nevertheless, tended the flame. They, together, from far away places, watched the fire burn to ash, pure, blackened, mysterious ash. 

Perhaps the two know that the blame falls equally upon them. Apologies, it seems, feel unnecessary in the face of equal wrongdoing. A step back for some perspective reveals that the injuries were slight but consistent on one end after a larger injury first arose. However, to be fair, to speak not of a wound deems the one who inflicted the pain unaware. Then, if backlashes and retorts against a slight were never vocalized, the fire blazed on within only one until it grew unruly and spread into the relationship as a whole. Distance, it would seem, is futile unless both parties intrinsically tie themselves to the other.

This, of course, reiterates an impossibility between two people when one person refuses to share one’s self in such a way, and so, the relationship succumbs to the inevitability of living life with a person who so dramatically cannot tie one’s self to another wholeheartedly. Realistically, though, the two simply grew up, and as their flesh shed to make room and way for more, seeing as it is that they parted ways, toward different lives, for different goals, when that growth finally happened, neither held the other in their company, and so, without intentional wound or injury, their relationship merely sloughed off and burned away in the fire of childish things, withered into the ash of memories past.

The necessary purification, perhaps, away from all that no longer may be. That refiner’s fire, the condensation, a becoming of a person into a self. No one wants to get burned, presumably, but burn, sometimes, a friend must.