Yourself?

Walking the rows of dusty memories, swiping them clean with the sweep of an outstretched hand, and letting light fall on them once again, where light once lay, all I see in those dusty windows, are but snippets of what might have been. And the dark leaden glass that seperates then from now seems almost impermeable. Like all old glass, I know it is fragile. In my mind I can see it cracking, a fine spiderweb of lines radiating from the tip of my outstretched finger. But sometimes, that finger may take the whole of my effort to lift. But sometimes, I fear the implosion of the glass from the weight of all those memories. But sometimes, you never really know what lies on the other side.

I gaze at them longingly, never daring to touch, just breathing in the scent of those moments that permeates my being still. I have no need to touch. For those transparent windows might just as well have been reflective mirrors. The memories are there yes, across the glass. But they are also here yes, in me. And I never forget. I just try to.

And so it is, I found another window today. A window that was not of my creation. But the characters in it, alive and breathing, were the characters in my memories, which I now call them dreams. And the emotion, warm and nuanced, like a glass of good brandy, or a beautiful painting, just warmed that silly iceberg heart of mine. I kept reading, page after page, watching the characters in my glass diorama mature and blossom. I kept reading, for that silly iceberg of mine started to sweat tears, for nothing since the day I left that corridor has touched me as much as the time I was in it, living the high life with friends, creating memories that would only last behind platen glass.

Unknowingly, I've already stepped past those rows of windows. Resigned, that the walls seperating here from there, then from now were too fragile to carry my weight. What if I pushed on them one day? What if in my eagerness and haste to return to what I once was, I broke the only thing protecting me from the flood of emotions that would shatter a fragile icebergish heart. Even more worrying. What if the heart melts?

posted by Downhere. @ 9:50 pm