It's that time again. To leave it all behind. To shake off the everyday, the expected. Move on, move forward. Lessons learnt, experiences in my suitcase, memories that will stir up in the wind, bad aftertastes washed away, palette cleansed. Yes its that time again. The one I look forward to everytime. That moment that time that month that gets me the most excited. But not this time. It doesn't feel right. It feels downright sick. The feet, they feel heavy. Not all that went past was pleasant or pretty. Heck, a whole lot of it was plain horrible and traumatic. And that's why, this time, more than ever before, should be the happiest most awaited move..to greater glories and brighter suns. But I'll trade those million bright suns in a second, if I could dig nails into my feet and ensure that I cannot move, will not move. The thunderstorms have been dark, they've been loud, they've been on most days, destructive. But I'd still much rather stay. There were these warriors, they came and went in large groups at regular intervals. They knew us not too well and we loved them from a distance. They'll never know how they changed us, levitated us, affected us. Conversations were brief, interactions always had to be hasty. The bridges from aquainted to personalised probably were never crossed. Time was never enough. And yet they were always the sun on our cloudy days, the moon on our darkest nights. They didn't know it. Of course they didn't. Even we didn't know it..that it was them. They who healed us, touched us and gave us a reason to love a time which was otherwise rife with only trivialities and inane ambitions. They saved us. Without intending to. It's the same feeling you get when you stand atop a cliff that overlooks the endless expanse of the sea. You can't dive in. You can't swim across the breadth of the entire sea even if you wanted to. So you stand, silently and watch. You experience its mightiness, its power by merely looking at the horizon and the sun that sets on it. Each time the waves lash against the rocks, each time you feel the salty sprays against your cheek, each time the wind digs cavities in your soul, you know you've been changed. Embers that will never die, have been lit in your being. Yes that's what these warriors were, they were the sea. Transforming us, overwhelming us, etched on our hearts, our minds our very existence, without ever intending to. From a distance. Endless, seamless. They're gone now. This time will never return. Youth wanes. What awaits us is seemingly bigger brighter happier. But we want none of it. This is where we want to be. Clinging on hopelessly to the memories of this ghost town. To the unspoken truth that has re engineered our identities.We don't want to move on. We want to weep and lament about a time that will never return no matter what we do. It can't return. So we choose to remain paralysed. Stuck. Rendered incapable of moving forward. Etched. I can hear it..the sound..of our breaking hearts. These tears, they will never die.I know we will remain haunted for all of life.
I hope they know who they are. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts.
