the one that got away

“the one that got away”…
That’s an expression
I’ve heard since I was a child.
Never truly understood it,
Until now.
Or have I?

Romantic at heart,
yet I don’t always accept love.
In fact, with open eyes and fighting tears,
I said “thank you” and hoped you could forgive me.
I watched your face as it faded into a million pieces,
With it, your heart.
And I said “what?”, “thank you”, “goodbye”.

My new best friend, shattered, just a piece of paper crumbled on the floor.
And I hope you can forgive me.
For I have been there too,
I know how the pain twists and burns inside you,
and I saw it in your eyes.
Or was it reflecting my own burning pain?

So we make amends and try
to be just like we were before.
My new best friend!
Until voices gather around us, screaming “lovers”…
And I say “what?”, “thank you”, “goodbye”,
turn my back on my new best friend,
broken, shattered, crumbling on the floor.

But forgiveness came, and with it new thoughts
and conversations about this frightening world,
and the deepness of the human mind,
of your mind.
Even with all the fights and arguments,
I realised that maybe, just maybe,
I could love you. Because love grew
Like a seed grows into a tree,
Or a…..

But love isn’t a metaphor.
Love isn’t a “could”
Love isn’t a “it would never work out”
And so… you never knew that I “could”.

When you said “goodbye”,
my face fade into a million pieces.
With it, my heart.
And with open eyes and fighting tears,
I said “thank you”, “goodbye”.

Romantic at heart,
There’s an expression I’ve heard
Since I was a child:
“the one that got away”.
Never truly understood it,
Until now.

Or have I?

 

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under anesthesia

I think that throughout the 21 years that I’ve been alive I had very few moments when I completely blocked out. There are things I don’t remember of course, not because I passed out in those moments but because my brain can’t grasp everything it lived through.

There was, however, that time, somewhere between grade six and eight, when someone kicked a ball right to where my head was and I passed out. To this day, I only know this story of my life, I don’t remember it.  I’ve heard it a million times, just like I’ve heard other stories of my childhood a million times and either I never remember them or I think I remember it – it seems like a memory, but in reality I know it isn’t quite right, I feel like it’s probably someone else’s memory, not mine.

It’s not only that I’m afraid I’ll someday get amnesia… I guess it’s also because I’m just afraid I forgot a lot of stuff from my past not because of someone hitting me on my head, but because I didn’t enjoy and savour those moments enough. And because of this I want to write down another story, a more recent one, where I lost consciousness:

Last Autumn I had a surgical emergency and obviously was knocked out. That was the first time in my life and it scared me. I haven’t talked about this bit a lot because it truly scared the hell out of me! One minute I was there, the other I was gone. I was really nervous, and it might have been the nervousness of having to go through a surgical procedure,  or it might have been the absolute fear of having my body failing to function as it should have, either way all I know is when I started to wake up, I didn’t remember anything that happened before. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to know or remember how it felt to have surgery. What scares me is that my brain seemed to be shutdown during that period… It’s like I was dead somehow.

I didn’t want this to seem so dramatic, it wasn’t that bad and I know there are things far worse. Still it lingers with me, that fear of being oblivious as to where my brain was during that time. I also know there are scientific explanations to everything I just wrote, but that’s not the point, really. Why? Because I’m talking about that specific feeling, that I can’t shake off. It was one of the weirdest moments of my life.

The few stories I know where somehow I lost complete consciousness of what surrounded me make me very afraid indeed. The oblivion, the nothingness of those moments might scare me the most since they are constant reminders of the other something else I can’t shake off: that I live my life constantly under anesthesia.

-A

 

you have a nice heart

Today I walked a lot because of two books I needed to buy  for some courses I’m taking. I didn’t know I had to walk that much, since I honestly thought I knew where the official university press was, but apparently the store I knew has closed last year. So, I went to three different (and very apart) bookstores, and only at the third did someone tell me where I should go to buy what I wanted.

The third bookstore! It’s a nice little bookstore like the ones seen in films: you walk inside and the door touches a piece of metal that makes a little sound and you look up and see tones of books of different sizes and full shelfs everywhere. It smells of old books and new ones (which is normal since it sells both). And then the nice lady appears and asks if you need help.

Which I needed. I told her what I was looking for and she immediately started telling me what I needed to know, even drew on a piece of paper a tiny map. I already knew her, because that same bookstore used to be somewhere else, and I’ve always known her to be nice, but today we talked for hours (literally, we were two hours talking, until a couple got into the store). She remembered me, even though I’d last been at her shop two years ago. At first we talked about university and books, and I guess I thought I should stay and talk to her because she seemed lonely and in need of a chat, or of somebody to hear her. But then I realised, maybe, just maybe, I sort of needed to be there and listen to her…

It was so weird, but I really felt like it was destiny to be there, hearing her, letting her stories be part of my own. And I know how cheesy this sounds! I’m not one to believe in such terms and mysticisms, but, boy, that was weird! Also, the way she talked and the way she saw through me was unbelievable… I know how easy I am to read, I can’t really conceal my feelings or some thoughts if I have them in the moment, but to have someone, who barely knows you, say things about you and your family that she must have realised in the moment, is just so weird!

I won’t write about what we talked, it was too much and a bit to personal somehow, but I’m writing this post because I was so surprised with the feelings I kept having throughout our chat. It was also very enlightening and interesting. I really enjoyed it because she genuinely seems like a nice person: there was this bit where she almost brought me to tears and we hugged, and then we kept talking about something else and time flew. I kept thinking I had to tell her how nice she was, how her heart is so beautiful and nice, but in the end I didn’t. That’s also why I’m writing this.

These few hours were so great, not because I was there instead of being home studying or doing something else, but because they’re rare. It seems to me it’s very uncommon to go to a bookstore and stay for two hours talking with the worker, when you barely know each other. More than uncommon, it’s unlikely.  But today it happened to me, and just like the bookstore reminded me of the ones in a film or in a book, so our conversation reminded me of stories I knew so well sometime ago. The chat itself was uncommon, but beautiful at the same time. I appreciated it a lot and I sure will come back to that place more often.

In the end, when some tourists walked in, we said goodbye and both mentioned how nice that time had been. Then I left and was overwhelmed with the feeling of goodness that the chat we had gave me. But still, I regret not telling her she had such a nice heart. I really love to meet people who are this great, it warms my heart!

-A