A post I wrote a few months after graduating from college. Felt like re-posting it for some reason. >>
There’s something about memory. Something it spurts, an overwhelming set of emotions that flutters right from some core in the depth of your being. It vulcanizes…and eventuates with an outburst. One that sometimes leaves you clueless.
A gallant heart secretly trudges..sometimes burdened..sometimes quieted and sometimes murdered with long evaded memory. But there comes a time, when that heart cries to speak in open, if only, for the illusion of being acknowledged.
Walking in, to a life that no longer is mine, I was reminded of all things wonderful. All things fine. and simply complicated in their own little exaggerated ways. A quick flash back..and its the same bus stop, the same direction..the shops that complete the scene and yet humbly accept their unimportance. It’s the same way the sun shone only a few months ago. The air.. the people , the spirit..and I’m sadly aware, that I am walking to a place I call home…That truly no longer is mine.
Wasn’t it only yesterday that I casually walked in for an hour that I was quite frivolously the guest of honour for on uncountable occasions?
The gates remain open armed..calling all who belong, inside. And I am painfully reminded, that I only once, not to long ago, belonged.
A community hall that I made my presence felt, at many a time. Those chairs..that stage.. those people.. they once were mine own… and I belonged.
A center for food and recreation, that I filled up an over grown stomach in…and I also served at. The plants.. the stairway. all mine..and now.. I have gone. And I don’t belong.
It could be a teacher’s erratic car alarm that hollered at literally the drop of a leaf, the teachers who never quite fit the bill, it could be my presence in a certain class just because I knew I could be a little arrogant there, or maybe even spark off an argument because somehow, then, I believed, that I knew more. It could be a simple disregard for someone, contrasted by an absolute love, respect and adoration for another.
It could be anything from that yesterday, and it would be everything that I once called mine. Today, estranged by unfriendly faces, faces unfamiliar and faces that I knew all too well. And I realise with utter desperation, that I still cling on, to all that isn’t mine anymore.
That was an abode of magic for me. A beautiful land of discovery and possibilities. A land where I found myself, the me that I always believed I was, but never found the courage to find. It was a forum for adages, to be made, to be spoken of, broken down and let lose..for scrutiny, acceptance or to be discarded.
A sanctuary..a place of refuge. A place I could never fear. A place, that I called mine.
I thought I had moved on…but today, “I feel once more the scars of the old flame”.
Homeless. Searching. And acutely aware, of the lack, or maybe even loss, of an important part of me.