I’ve been here before.
An empty two story building with blue shutters and a cherry blossom tree in front. I reach for the ornate gold door handle and before opening the bright red door; I look over my shoulder for the last time.
Goodbye.
—
I walk in and the room’s dusty as expected. It’s been three years since we last lived in this house. Now I’ve returned on my own, which was also expected.
I softly shut the door to avoid large puffs of dust in the air. Walking over to the living room leaving hints of warmth through my footprints in the dust, I open the windows letting sunshine into the no longer abandoned room. The mahogany wood floors soak in the sunlight and creak as they awaken from a long and deep sleep.
The kitchen hasn’t changed and I plug in the refrigerator. The low whirring noise acts as the key to a cold air on a hot summer day.
—
I walk up the stairs holding onto the wooden banisters every once in awhile for balance and security. I reach the second floor and make a right. I go down the dust filled shadowy hall and I feel like I’m not alone. Ghosts of my past are walking beside me, reveling in my return. I try to ignore them and stay focused on the light at the end of the hall. The light that shines so brightly from the window I’ve missed so much.
As my foot steps into the room, the ghosts seem to have fallen behind. And as if there were a magical barrier in my doorway, my room is sullen but filled with warm and rich memories never to be disturbed. The old pink carpet has somewhat transformed into a cooler gray pink. The bed sheets are slightly lopsided and I walk over and try to fix them. While I fix the left side my toes hit something thin and circular. I bend down and reach underneath with my right hand. It’s a cd.
—
We suffer everyday,
What is it for,
These crimes of illusion
Are fooling us all,
And now I am weary,
And I feel like I do.
I’ve completely forgotten about this song…
It’s only you,
Who can tell me apart,
And it’s only you,
Who can turn my wooden heart.
The memories…
The size of our fight,
It’s just a dream,
We’ve crushed everything,
I can see, in this morning selfishly,
How we’ve failed,
And I feel like I do.
I wonder what he’s up to now…
It’s only you,
Who can tell me apart,
And it’s only you,
Who can turn my wooden heart.
Where is he…
Now that we’ve chosen to take all we can,
This shade of autumn, a stale better end,
Years of frustration lay down side by side.
It’s only you,
Who can tell me apart,
And it’s only you,
Who can turn my wooden heart.
As the song ends, I feel my heart come to a stop. This is the only the beginning and I wonder if I’ll make it.
© estalement 2007
