Today the winds blew in summer’s heat and the smell just overwhelmed me, taking me back to 10 years ago…
Summer was his season. The heat, the passion, the stolen glances and silent words. Fall belonged to someone else. Someone who spoke through music. The holidays? The holidays always reminded me of the evasive one. He who I still miss to this day, who I still crave to know and memorize, because my memory fails me and I no longer remember the sound of his voice, or his beautiful eyes. The enigma who arrived with such promise but left with more questions than the visible stars at night.
Time takes us away and puts space between who we were and who we are now. Memories collect dust, physically and mentally, and then it becomes an effort to either remember or forget. That’s the hard part—choosing between remembering, which can fill you with so much love, or forgetting, which can drain you off all your emotions. There is no in between. There’s just you and your memory.
"You say your head can be a prison, and these are just conjugal visits."