On a lonely walk through a despairing evening, I finally reached the final peg of travel on my journey homeward bound. It was a lonely day, filled with abstract tasks of work, all the more catering to that lonely remoteness of precariously teetering on the brink of some unknown fissure in the substance of something which was somehow dissolving the more I tried to hold onto it, lonely in ways that coldness wafts biting and bitter inside out, in the fragility of glass ready to shatter at a single breathe, or the way a flame goes out without a final tendril of smoke, goes out, despite every effort to save it.
A bus pulling away, taking the last of light, humanity with it. Alone, on a dark street, a lonely night, a wet, grey world, and a world that was entirely mine, or rather, a world that felt like it would go on without me, a world that I felt disparate from, and therefore not mine.
What were the guitar strums that faded out? The sounds of feeling that pluck from the very heart, very soul? In a world where emotions fluctuated in and out, where mouths moved without being heard, where heartbeats beat for someone who wouldn't listen, where tears were shed only to be dismissed the way rain frequently falling was unseen, unappreciated, what was a vacuum to the heart?
Memories, suddenly and immediately, a song blossomed out into fifty million colours, a voluptuous growing of vines and life, a stray laugh, a happy moment, a moment of amazement at sharing, of similarity, of love. A love that would blossom the way the song blossomed out into tendrils of memories. And suddenly, I realized
Was it possible to remember the future? It was - for a song so curiously possessive I became, a song which had every hue of grey of sorrow, a sorrow yet inexperienced, yet so absolutely my own. How was it possible that years before I was able to make it mine, that familiarity of knowing the feelings, and yet never having had felt them, nor heard it before? Like a stepping stone onto a path where I wasn't sure I was going to go - where did it take me? A lonely ambition to steadfastly follow the path alone, a path wherein I lost nights of sleep, not even really sure why, where somehow I was awake that night I was going to come face to face with my fate.
What is the feeling of watching your life come alive in front of you, of feeling that amazing feeling of two parts becoming whole? That feeling of never being me, until I met you? Of learning who I am because of who I never was without you? How was it possible to lock a door that didn't exist and yet find that someone had the key all so long? There are so many possibilities that could occur in every instant, how was it possible that at that moment, that instant, that place, that time, that mood, that moment, the dice, the roulette, the stars all aligned to be exactly what they were for this to have happened?
In a second I realized that never more so was this song I was walking home to ever so apt, in a moment I forgot the pavement of the sidewalk, the sighing of the trees, the rustle of grass growing greenly, and suddenly it seemed like all those moments of backwards deja vu were all me remembering the future of this moment, because never before had I felt the need to feel it with all of the me that was feeling it because, this time it meant losing you would be losing the key to the door through which only you and only I, and only you and I together could enter because that portal would only exist as long as we existed together.