198. Song No. 2,994: “Empty House,” Delta Spirit
Delta Spirit, 2012

How could one little speck make a difference to the rest?
Well it doesn’t, no one cared
Except me

I know this is a song that detours through a lousy childhood and a lousier family but, given the mental place I’ve been flailing around for most of the pandemic and the still-new sting of finally accepting that some friends’ paths have diverged irrevocably from mine, I couldn’t help but indulge in the satisfaction of overpersonalized transference and apply this to lousy friends, too. I think it’s a perfectly fair leap to make when your family of the heart starts to splinter after a few of them permanently adopted an uncanny impersonation of the blood ties you severed over a decade ago when those same toxic traits rise unbearably to the surface, once again slamming closed a door that stayed open for far too long but only ever seemed to go one way.

I got this limp from a favor I did
Some folks don’t like charity

It’s a gutpunch (and a blow to the ego) learning that the same people who will take for granted your natural inclination to be everyone else’s trauma sponge in their time of need will unceremoniously turn on you without giving the slightest indication that you’ve outstayed your welcome for being a reminder of the low, dark place you helped dragged them out of. It’s understandable, I guess, but it’s also pretty disorienting to have the rug pulled out from under you when you thought a friendship forged in an admittedly rocky start had finally turned a corner and solidified into something almost sisterly, only to be snubbed after mistakenly thinking you can confide in them for once.

How could one little speck make a difference to the rest?
Well it doesn’t, never will
Just like me

It’s the ending of the song that I can’t reconcile my reality with, though, making for an imperfect metaphor, which, I think, suits the inherent messiness of relationships better anyway.

Those glinting gems unevenly strewn throughout the pavement they share with the far more commom and unremarkable lime and sand sparkle despite their mundane surroundings and are, in fact, even more extraordinary for their incongruous inclusion and fixed presence in some nondescript place underscoring how just their improbable existence is hope enough.

As longtime friendships fall apart, new ones tentatively rise up to fill that new, aching void. And no longer expending energy on people who never really deserved it in the first place means finally having more to give those who just want to share their shine with others, too. Amidst the drudgery of life and reminders that not everyone is permanent, there are always those incredible newcomers whose glimmer only brightens the deeper you dig.

And if you’re really lucky, you find out that they, too, believe in the imperative of being the change you want to see by being the catalyst for small, sustainable efforts to leave the world in a better place than you found it, one person at a time. Which is exactly how one tiny speck can chip away at making a difference to the rest.