Carpe Diem

October 20th, 2007

for a fleeting, few, scary, heart-stopping moments, i realized that i had forgotten what you look like. there i was, with my breath catching in my throat, desperately grasping for that one mental photograph in my head, my lifeline, my pillar of support, my prozac, my everything. but whatever brittle fragments of imagery that provided a brief flash of relief were fast slipping through my fingers like broken lace, rusty dust. there was just this. blank. spot. vacuum. thing. in my head. like someone had broken into my mind and stole you away from me. and so i tried to think of all those face-to-face moments, the across-the-table moments, all those times i looked up at you while lying in your arms and you would be sleeping and i could count your eyelashes and truly see you for who you really are. but it didn’t work, and i started to feel even more scared. it was really weird because i could feel you, here with me, but i just couldnt see you. the panic was starting to bubble over. is this what it is, when a patient’s body rejects the organ donated to it? is this what it is, when you have the flu and your nose feels like it’s this alien appendage attached to your face that sporadically and uncontrollably makes your entire body seize up in a sneeze? is this what it is, moving on? is this what it is.. forgetting.

hollywood road was all over the place. taxis, antique shops, pacific coffee. sighs from me. missing all those things, missing you, not understanding. i cannot possibly forget how you look like. you’re supposed to be always here, omnipresent, never leaving.

there are times that i think maybe it would be for the better. but then in those quiet peaceful past-midnight hours of watching you while you sleep, i cant bring myself to repeat the thought. the undiluted truth just presents itself in the most coy of manners, in the most vulnerable of times. and who am i to question this truth? i close my eyes and suddenly i see you, your face, your james blunt shirt, your smile, that teasing grin. carpe diem, someone once said. this is me seizing it all the way.

Entry Filed under: Musings, Unsent Letters