how water reflects relationships

friendships and relationships have always been extremely important to me and one of the things that I have had a difficult time adjusting to is the fact that, by their very nature, relationships change. friendships are hard work, and as soon as one person begins to lessen the amount of effort he or she puts into the relationship, it becomes off-balance. sometimes I'm the one who backs off, often it's the other person... sometimes, ironically, you're so in sync you both begin stepping back at the same time; those are easier to adjust to, because it's easier to accept that the friendship was only intended for a certain time and space. I've come to a certain peace about the knowledge that most relationships in our lives will only be for a limited period of time and that we should be thankful for the blessing they are when we are in the midst of them. it seems that most friendships won't last a lifetime; they will end, whether they are cut off suddenly or gradually fade away. here's a (as yet unedited) poetic musing that tries to capture the sense of this idea, as well as reflect my feelings about some of the friendships I have had in my life:

Our friendship is under water.
It used to be that the surface was still as glass...
when I looked at you it mirrored me
and it felt familiar, true, and real.
A breeze of contention would ripple the surface now and then...
things would be blurred,
perhaps a little cloudy from the disturbance,
but soon the smooth reflection reappeared to reassure me... us.

Now the wind of resignation has picked up
and the surface is marred so badly
I only catch glimpses of what once was.
Many of those glimpses are unrecognizable,
distorted as they are by the swells of dissention.
On the odd occasion a pocket of water is distilled into a reminder
of the way things used to be.
It happens less and less often...
I can't quiet or calm the storm...
I can hope it will blow over,
but I know we will never recover.

We're drowning in the waves
that hide us from each other.