Reverie

It must be a different kind of ache that makes me decided to finally write this at 6 in the morning. I’ve always tried to put it into words: the feelings, the hurts, the faint traces of love that still cling to me like stubborn shadows. Unspoken truths of your traces, like ghostly apparitions between my days.

At the heart of it all lies a simple refrain, whispered softly: I missed you. But how does one articulate such a sentiment to a stranger, to someone who has become a mere specter of the person they once were?

I was at the ocean again yesterday. Even when there was nothing around I still looked for you everywhere and found you in everything. Memories, weightless as a sea foam, danced upon the waves, evoking the specter of what used to be you and I. And me, ensnared, and sinking once more into the depths of the longing. And I, was thinking of you again when I watched the sunset, I know I shouldn’t have.

A poignant recognition that caught me by surprised. There was nothing left for me to be longing for. This past year I’ve casted all the grief away, stripping them off my fingers. My hands, once heavy with sorrow, now are just my hands. What am I supposed to do with them?

They said our memories and bodies are filled with locked rooms. Some come with hammers and break the doors down, some come with the right keys. But you, I guess you came with a gentle knock. “Well there you are,” escaped my lips, as if I had been anticipating your arrival all along. With each steps nearer, a silent understanding passed between us. A familiarity that transcended time.

So here’s one last truth before we continue leaving on our separate ways. With you so much resonates in me, and without you went so much of me.

May we find solace and be happy with whatever the truth is.

Laras, 2024