Love, Musings, Pain, Words

Once upon a dream

“I remember tracing my fingers over your face, trying to memorize every inch of you. I was so afraid that one day you would be taken away from me. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have held you so close. I wanted for nothing else when I was with you. Those days tangled up in you – I never wanted it to end. But now you’re gone and all I’m left with is the ghost of you. Grief cracks my heart wide open. I knew this moment would come. I knew I had to memorize you because one day I wouldn’t be able to hold you anymore. 

I met you and it changed me. For once in my life there was something I wanted. So much. I think maybe I loved you more than love allowed.”

Sometimes I scroll through the saved entries in my journal and I shock myself with how real and how potent my emotions were at the time of writing. I remember when I wrote this. It was late into the night – grief had torn my chest wide open and tears were spilling out of my eyes as I typed into my phone with trembling fingers. I had known loss before but not like this. I had known betrayal before but never like this.

It was then that I learnt that love can push you to the brink of esctacy only to kill you in the next moment without so much as a warning sign. And I, I was but a frail doll caught up in the brazen ruthless arms of the wrong man. 

Those months were so sleepless. I never want to feel that kind of horrific pain again.

But time is merciful. It softens the blow of wounds and quietly tucks memories away on a little shelf. Time has also made room for a quiet hope inside my heart that one day I might hold a love so sweet and tender in my arms again, this time maybe for real. Maybe to stay. 

… I wonder if I will know inside when it is safe to love that deeply again. 

Standard
Musings, Process, The Voyage

Keep your eyes open. 

Isn’t it crazy? How things change so quickly. A year ago everything was different. Yet those memories etch themselves so vivid in my mind; replaying as clear as the daylight sun. I have this knack of remembering it all – the important bits anyway. Of holding on to memories for far longer than I should too, both the good and bad. 

Touch. Scent. Electric emotion. I can, at will, in any instant, remember it all so real as if it were happening to me all over again. 

A year from now, nothing will be the same either. I don’t know if that excites me or terrifies me. If there is an art of living in the present, I am still learning it. But what I do know is you have to look. Look before it all changes. Before it’s all gone. 

Standard