Winter Lyric

Foreword The following pages contain words that I have come to know very personally in the past year. It is a narrative of love, loss, loneliness and pain unlike any other I have come across, but those words on their own cheapen it and make me sound like the back cover of a DVD. It is a meditation on all that is gained, and all that is lost, in every small moment, every seemingly meaningless interaction that passes us by, and it is told in a voice that is both profound and inimitable. It was written by my friend and brother-in-arms, Michael Whone, and contains more beauty and pain than should rightly exist in its brief pages. Elliot’s story begins in what seems like a confused static of thoughts and moments, shifting easily between painful past moments and mundane present ones, old shames and missed opportunities, and present painful solitude. When a day breaks for him, though, he finds a clarity, joy and beautiful order to his world that I could not help but be in envy of. Elliot stitches himself together again and again with the pieces of humanity that are presented to him, and revels in the fragile beauty of it all. I won’t be so trite as to label my friend’s story a simple tale of unrequited love. Elliot nakedly faces the injustices we all do just by being born into this world, and the painful path a person must take to make a place for themselves in this world, when none is made for them. —Neal O’Reilly Thursday December 1, 2016