Saturday, June 25, 2011
Oh, I get poked too. From time to time. Here and there. Little things that are so subtle sometimes that it passes me by until a moment seizes me and freezes time. Then, I am transported back to you. I remember glimpses, flashes, and feelings mostly. I remember the thoughts and the unquestioned possibilities from a different time. But I am in a forgiving state now. Forgiving to myself, to you. To all the little failures between us. To all the wishes that never had a chance to lift off. To the love that didn't stand a chance. It was real, wasn't it? I've learned to detach myself so well that I often wonder if I didn't imagine half of it all. But you're there--poking me. Telling me things that are not hardly ever possible now. But it's worth a smile to read. And to understand where it's all coming from.
Friday, June 3, 2011
This is like therapy. Funny how someone so distant can suddenly seem so near and yet a thousand milestones could never measure the space between us. But I see you. I hear you. And your words light a fire on memories long chained and sunk under deep waters. I cannot feel you anymore. But I can feel me. I can close my eyes and understand what you're saying. And sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can remember. Funny how after all this time, remembering can make everything so real again. The only time machine a person ever needs is the mind. And yet the mind is also so painfully deceptive that you cannot trust what it brings back to you. But I see you. And I hear you. And I hope listening to you puts back together what was once broken. Even in just a little way.