Five Years

“Five Years” - David Bowie (The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust - 1972)

I never thought I’d meet so many people. All this time. All this long time. Fat-skinny people. Tall-short people. Pretty-ugly people. They were nobody. They were somebody. All with a story. All compelling. Boring. Unattainable. Right in front of my face. All this when I thought that five years was really a lifetime.

Of course, now I know the truth. Everything’s in hindsight. Everything is after. And it’s hard to go back and put myself in that situation again. To even think about it seems…difficult. The only thing I can think to muster is…forever. I want to get back there. So I can think about why I did it. And why it ended. But I can’t stay long.

For a while my brain hurt a lot. Yes, I was hurt that it was over, but why? Why? Not why was it over, but why did it ever begin? I didn’t know it was five years. I was ready for the long haul. Eternity. I walk around now and see them everywhere. So many mothers sighing. I know they’re not lying. I think inside, they must be dying. Because that’s how I felt. Under the numb. Under my thumb.

Now little people are involved. Tiny people. And that’s wonderful. But to what end? Another five years? And another? We become uninvolved with people to raise another uninvolved. Uninvolved over and over again. I want to walk again. I want you to walk. That’s really all we’ve got. Waiting for another five years. Or not.

I choose to live now. To open myself up to the wisdom of other people. To the happiness of companions. Plural. It’s either that or spend another five years watching television and waiting for the bomb to drop. People are the wonders of God. I never thought I would need so many people. But I do. I am tired of feeling like an actor in a role.

I want to walk into an ice cream shop and find you drinking milkshakes. To sit and talk for a while. To do it again tomorrow and find you again. And that is where it will begin. Not another five years, but a lifetime of friends.

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