LucidZealot

"As I laid myself to rest that night, a part of me never woke up. I weep for him, the one who was lost.

There are memories in life that are meant to never be forgotten..."

Mythfairy

Sometimes our old self must die in order for a new one to be born, a better, stronger one.

We don't forget some memories because we learn from them, "the imprint is always there. Nothing is ever really forgotten".

LucidZealot

"This is for long forgotten light at the end of the world, horizon crying the tears you left behind so long ago..."

This time in March is a very powerful time of year for me.
It was nearly three years ago that I stood at the edge of a continent to usher in a new chapter in my life. Out of the darkness, into the light. I remember the chill of the mid-March air, the sand in between my toes, the full moon above, illuminating the undulations of the ocean before me. It was such a cascade of metaphors, these beautiful sights, and they were all too fitting for the condition of my life at the time. They spoke to me, and they said, "We understand you, for we have been laid to rest before you and have lived through the eternity that has followed since. We live now."

It so came to pass that I made the move, and when I arrived at my new home the following April, at night, all things were bathed in a deep, enigmatic blue and dark green hue. What sounds were these coming from the trees? And what curious aroma in the air filled my nostrils? It was all so different...

Then, there is the indescribable energy of the memories of my time spent with friends. This is an energy that I know, through experience, that can never again be imbibed. They are meant to stay memories. They are not to be re-lived, for if they could be, their immeasurable depth and value would die. They are ghosts, and they will wander within me until my dying day and beyond.

And I know that even the most calloused of souls used to be young. They laughed and played, cared and cried, sang and danced. Somewhere along the way, these souls broke. Some in half. Others into countless pieces. Some tried to put it all back together, some successfully, others not. Some were content to be broken. Some wished to break others. But one truth shone brightest of all: it can never be how it was before it was broken.

I see my pieces on the ground before me...

What am I to do? Must I look inside? What is in there?