"Our memory is our coherence,
our reason,
our feeling,
even our action.
Without it, we are nothing."
- Luis Bunuel
The past reverberates in the hollow halls of my heart.
Every picture, every item, every moment.
You can never find love.
It finds you, when you least expect it.
It guides you by the hand, patient yet firm
Until the muddle you encounter in the murky depths of confusion
Centrifuge into a point of clarity
Words said, actions done, yet affection was the glue that kept this ship from sinking
We trudged on into the unknown abyss
Eager yet contemplating
Jumping yet afraid of falling
For the first time in my life, every second was magical.
The simplest ramen dinners
The Sunday mornings
The cakes that lasted all afternoon and evening
I'd never want to turn away.
You asked me why I did it. Why of all days, why on the most important day.
I lied.
And you hurt.
And I said it was anger, that you were leaving.
And you hurt.
And I took it for granted.
And you hurt.
And I smashed it all.
Justified my dank actions against a backdrop of self-pity.
And. You. Hurt.
Once you're gone you will be off to chase a lifetime of dreams encapsulated in a job that will bring you around the world.
I will never know what it will be like. I will be stuck here, alone, forlorn, living in a place you hate, hanging on to shreds of memories that once so beautiful, stink of regret and sadness
Now you're gone.
And I hurt.
