The best of what I hold dear to me are not things.
They are moments.
Moments shadowed with life’s work.
Shadowed with time elapsed.
But moments not forgotten.
Moments that are on an eternal replay.
Like the sound of your laughter.
The crinkles around your eyes.
The depth in your gaze.
But also the moments that fill my eyes.
Like when I heard your voice on the other side of the phone in the middle of the night.
Little did I know it would be the last time. I would stay awake all night, everyday if I could hear it again. If I was blessed enough.
I always try to think of bad, horrible things. The least of all experiences. The somber times spent with you. With the intention that it will be far easier to live through with myself that way.
Try as I do, I can’t.
The vault with your name engraved on it refuses to offer me some. Any.
And so I go back. Back to being clumsily happy. Happy and drenched in wistful thinking of you. Because you supposed that there’s no purpose in being sad. But you forgot to mention that one day I would have to live and be happy without you.
She said she was elegant. And I was a dork. And Alia was cute. And Oliver was fatuous. And Brittany was pretty. And Marlow was handsome. And Irene was clumsy. And Jeremy was odious.
And I thought that’s how people are. You are graceful or frail or agile or shallow or dull. But never an and. You can’t be two people. You can be audacious or shy. And then I thought again, what if I wanted to be two people? Why do I have to be what I’m called? What’s in a name, anyway?
"Happiness is contagious"
These wise words were uttered to me in what seems like an eternity ago.
That’s when I recall the sensual, distant memory of feeling the emotion.
But what was it?
Somewhere in the root of my pit, I still long for it.
It’s not within my grasp.
My poor lifeless fingers are always flimsy near this feeling.
If happiness is contagious, what of the grief stricken?
I seem to have developed a radar of my own.
A condition from which I suffer.
It’s known as broken hearted.
I see them everywhere.
Behind the smiles.
Behind the shades.
Behind the bogus hello’s.
The eyes never betray the broken hearted.
The grief stricken.
Let’s not end this.
Let’s make a patent and be happy.
No, not happy. The word seldom holds the value it’s meant to have.
Let’s be joyful, ecstatic, and merry.
Let’s be lively. Yes, lively. It paints a better canvas than the mere term happy.
Let’s never lose our pint of humour.
Let’s be together.
Let’s, only for a day.
Let’s continue that one day for eternity.