Remembering When
On the need to forget it all
When it finally happened, I forgot to remember you. Because I had allowed myself to be swept away on the currents of what was ebbing and flowing around me then, and quite by accident more than intent, those currents led me away from you the way it would nudge a person away from shore. Gently, invitingly, persuasively. Until you swim further away from that perceived safety. Until you lose sight of what was holding you back.
I swam ahead, keeping my eye on the horizon, and I forgot to remember you.
When it finally happened, I was caught up living and breathing like I hadn’t for a while. I gulped for breath and allowed it to fill my lungs, allowed it to pump life back into me, allowed it to whisk me away to the heart of the pulse. Forcefully, drunkenly, recklessly, determinedly. I gave in to new impulses, explored new boundaries, danced new steps that were no longer in cadence with yours. And I forgot to remember you.
When it finally happened, I allowed new music to drown my world. Anything that was more upbeat, throbbed, and pulsated wildly, filled with words that sang of potential. Potential that was a promise, not a hope. I sang, and I skipped, and I danced. Yesterday melted away like a fade-out of a long post-movie credits scene that we…
