slipped through my fingers and the winds kicked up. disappeared behind the rush of a passing train. i turned around, and you vanished. out of my presence, out of view, out of reach.
in all of these places i’ve loved you. i’ve despised you. i’ve missed you, pined for you, lost you.
but i do see you there in the details. the echoes and the memories which manifest like phantoms of the past. and just like those blessed and beautifully delicate memories, they continue to haunt me, both good and bad ones. hopes among the despair, glimmers of gladness in the shuffle.
and they shape who i have become and continue to be. things happened like they happened, and of course it’s fine. this is the grasp of a linear life.
what a lovely tragedy, this melancholic existence. we are destined to feel from the first to the last, and in all that exquisite sustained lifetime in between.