I considered returning there today but did not, the thought of doing so made me somehow uneasy, as if to do so would be dissonant and wrong.
On considering this carefully, clarity came to me.
It's significance, this place which must seem so ordinary, so routine and hence so nondescript to those who live there, is hugely special to me for a reason.
There was an instant in time when I was nailed to my chair, the strong cap on the wellspring of my emotions was sledgehammered away and my life changed completely: and all by the softest glance.
Today was cold, dry and frosty.
The grass in the park where we walked hand in hand would not have been lush, verdant, mown the day before and scented.
The tree where we sat would be leafless and bare, not richly green and whispering in the warm light air.
The bench where we kissed would have been icy and damp.
The significance of this place, to me, is centered on one person who cannot be with me. Without her I will not return.
I prefer to remember it, frozen in time, on a single summer's day. Perfect, idyllic, vivid in my mind and very, very precious: it is for the best then that I do not return and cloud the memory of it with anything less.
A Funny Old Life
this reminds me of a time when i was living in the town that i had first known with my love...after he left, i would see all the same things that i saw when we were together and everything reminded me of him. but eventually i got used to it. living there for a few more years helped--more personal memory associations were formed naturally.
ReplyDelete