Unsure of what the future holds. Reminiscing thoughts of the past. Going through old clothes and smelling the scents of the times gone down the drain, cherishing the bitter sweet moments. Feeling beautiful wearing the once important gifts, feeling light headed and low.
Throwing things away. Books you don’t need anymore, the empty shower gel bottles you saved because of the smell he liked. Old gifts, damn, can’t go through old pictures at all. What about all that we shared? Where is it. But that doesn’t mean a thing to anyone, no one knows about the attachment. And the affiliation with all the junk I keep in my room. My grandma’s clothes, my mother’s birthday wishes wrapped up in clothes and letters, this secret autograph book. I see secrets from long ago, I see friends who confided.
I smile. All of these memories, these heart-drenching, mood wrenching memories. Listen to music on my laptop, the electricity’s back. Round and round we go, says the woman in the song. She’s right.
Something in the way these memories lit up my world. Something I feel, the life I lived in those moments, in those clothes, in those memories. We never forget, we never move on. We learn to live, and we go with the flow. But you feel the same about the things that once were, and they always will be. Those people always live in you, those people become your kryptonites. Yes, I have one too, and I’m sure you do too.
Wait for the time when I finally fall asleep, wait for the body to be tired. Write till I drain. Think while I can, think hard and think deep. It takes me places, and I love it. I love the solitude, I love the clarity.