Farewell, Old Friend

Still Waters


We were, for a while, close.

For a while we shared the same boat,

Sailed the same social seas.

You were my anchor;

I was your sails.

In you I found rest;

With me you could fly.

We traversed that watery plain

With one heart, watching

For the horizon together and,

For a while, the sailing was good.

Then the waters’ swell;

A storm rolled in.

Violently it smashed our happy boat;

Threw us into icy waters.

We landed on flotsam and drifted ~


Our cries to each other

Lost in tormenting winds

Of change that blew us to

Different shores.

Our help came from

Different sources.

Our loyalties changed.


In time our paths crossed.

I hardly recognized you.

The storm had changed you

As it had me.

Farewell, old friend.


Oh brother, another sad post about lost relationships. This time a dying friendship.

I guess, as I go through this transitional phase of my life, this is bound to happen.

Still, I remember the good times and the fun we had. The sad times and how we were there for one another. But there has been a shift, and we both know it. Now we are like ships that pass in the night. Polite but non-committal.

Reminds me of the saying about friends coming into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

As I move into a new phase of my life I look forward to meeting new people and, perhaps, making new friends.

Thank you for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂


©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013


Here is this week’s Free Write Friday prompt from Kellie Elmore.



Surrender to

What is.

What else is there?

Follow the course


Batten down the hatches,

And enjoy the ride.

Toward the light.


The light

And the end of a

Long, unforgiving


Prepare to be delivered

To your destiny.

It awaits.


As adrenal fatigue storms inside me my experience of life is small.

Socializing is not part of my matrix at the moment, and as the party month proceeds, I am confined to a few moments of jollity among friends separated by days of healing isolation. I must measure every encounter. Leave buffer zones between events. Learn to be my own best friend; to take care of myself appropriately as this lengthy storm passes through.

The storms bluster manifests within 12 hours of any over-stimulating event. Doesn’t matter if it’s fun or stressful. To my body it’s all the same. It must surge. Headaches, nausea, vomiting on and off for 12 hours batter this boat, my system expelling stress it cannot hold.

There is light on the horizon. I can see it. But for now, I must surrender to the healing storm, batten down the hatches, and hang on until it passes.

I will be the first one to rejoice when it does.

Thanks for visiting,



©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013