And it just so happens that tonight might just be the loneliest night of my life.
As I sit in front of my laptop, digging through old files and deleting them to clear up space, I come across an old document that I can’t recall writing.
thoughts.doc :
And when you’re finally ready to let things go, you should really let them go.
And if you’re the one being let go of, then accept it and move on.
It is truly depressing what our definition of conversation mean these days. It has died down from looking each other in the eye and pulling off a decent amount of conversation, to recognizing that familiar font in that small window you always tend to have open on your computer screen.
The other day I wished that I were able to keep my dreams alive instead of letting them slowly fade. It’s natural to forget things; you can’t remember everything that’s ever happened in your life. But doesn’t it scare you when you can’t remember the important things?
I used to remember exactly how we looked together. We’d spend our summer days riding our bikes going to the nearby Seven 11 to pick up coke slushies and candy. We’d sit outside on a warm summer day on the porch without any worries or anticipation. All that mattered was what we were talking about then, and how it felt. The warm summer breeze gently making its way through our long black hair, and the feeling of that nice coke slushie running down our throat was unforgettable.
And without a care in the world I stepped out of my own comfort zone, and I made it happen. Not only were changing schools something I had never planned to do, it was still a feeling of accomplishment. I was able to let go of this lifestyle I’ve become so accustomed to, and I was able to leap into another with no hesitation and no regret.
Sometimes I can still feel how the grass felt underneath my sneakers as I took those long summer walks. Grass was always such a conformer. It never kept its own shape, but always conformed around other shapes it got caught under. I always wondered why it wasn’t strong enough to hold its own form, or was it just because it wanted to feel how others felt? Maybe the idea of the nature of grass angered me so much because I was so like it. I was always in dire need to feel what others felt, experience what others experienced, that I never took the time to do things my own way at my own pace. Maybe it was because deep down inside, I was the conformer I hated so much.
My emotions always take on the form of the seasons. At one point, I would be happy and growing like the leaves in spring, move on to summer where I was bright and always warm, then fall into that autumn chill with the familiar windy breeze, and only later to become completely cold and frozen to the core, dead.
Always wondering why I could never hold myself up straight, it was a burden that was killing me. As I think about it, I just get weaker, that I’ve forgotten I can’t do things on my own. I should just seek help and get this over with. Maybe I’ll see you in a few years. Maybe by then you won’t even recognize me.
Let’s hope so.
—
The other document’s title baffled me. Why was something titled this, filed away in a folder that took on the complete opposite meaning? As curiosity gets the best of me, I open the file and realize it’s the document I specifically hid away for the thought of my very own safety and concern.
Important.rtf :
Date: Friday, April 28, 2006 Blastoff
Date: Tuesday-Wednesday, May 2-3, 2006 Dream
Date: Friday, May 5, 2006 Dream
Date: Sunday, May 7, 2006 Entry
Date: Sunday, May 7, 2006 Conversation
Date: Thursday, May 11, 2006 Song Lyrics
Date: Friday, May 12, 2006 Deletion in aim profile
Date: Monday, May 15, 2006 An End
Date: Tuesday, May 16, 2006 Discovery of the Sense of Smell
Date: Sunday, May 21, 2006 A Mutual and Inevitable End
Date: Sunday, May 21, 2006 Entry
Date: Monday, May 22, 2006 Road to Recovery
—
While both of these documents were found in the same folder, each carried their very own important story and meaning. One had been a document I didn’t recall writing but had recorded down a very important thought through a period of time in my life. The other had been a document I had neglected to read, but hid away so that the next time I discovered it, it would perhaps bring new meaning through the recording of specific dates (recorded under these specific dates were stories and events that shall be left as another story for another day).
Having accidentally stumbled upon these, I don’t know what to do with myself. Not only did these two documents bring up important, meaningful, yet painful memories of my past, but had now raised new problems and questions that I realized have been left both unsolved and unanswered.
After reading these, I’m utterly stunned and baffled. What are both my past and future self trying to tell the now, present me? What do these important memories mean now and what will become of them later?
Nowadays, I find myself surrounded by questions and problems. I try my best to solve them, but maybe not all of them are meant to be solved. Maybe they’re just meant to be a fact, a statement, a memory.
But even every memory has a story, meaning, and life of its own.
And that’s what makes every thought about them important.
© estalement 2007
