I pick myself up.
Start to move.
I feel fear. Is this fear? It feels familiar. Maybe I’ve known it all along. Maybe this is how I’ve gotten this far.
I dodge into an alley and then realize that was a horrible idea. A dead end that smells like garbage. I turn around and hit the sidewalk.
Maybe I shouldn’t be running.
Maybe I should slow down and walk. Act normal. Blend in. Get lost.
I’m always lost.
And I see my parents. They walk past me holding hands.
I stop.
‘Mom! Dad!’
I’ve got a whirlwind tempo to my voice. It’s how I imagine dizziness might sound.
They both look at me. They smile. Their fingers are locked tight. They’re locked together. They’ve become the same person. Figuratively speaking, of course.
‘You’ve got to help me. I don’t know what’s wrong. My head. It’s fucked up. I can’t seem to get anything straight anymore. I can’t seem to make sense of anything.’
They smile and disappear.
Yesterday becomes today and back again.
I see Alicia. I know she’s not real. I haven’t seen her in years. Or have I? When was the last time I saw her.
I’m not sure anymore.
I ask her what to do.
She tells me the same thing she told me before I took off on this stupid adventure to try and excavate and reclaim my past.
She tells me to find Evaline.
She’s probably right.
I need an anchor. I need something to tie me down. I need something.
The sirens scream.
I thank Alicia.
She disappears.
I start to run.
Pick up the pace.
I don’t know where to find Evaline. I still want to find her. I’m still trying. It’s all that I’m holding onto at this point.
Evaline is running next to me. Her memory, it smiles. I smile back.
There’s a loneliness that pushes me.
But there are times where I wonder if I’m not as lonely as I thought I was.
And I cut through several side streets. The good thing about being ageless is that you get to know the city fairly well throughout your life.
I climb a fence.
My feet make a clapping sound as they hit the sidewalk. I pause and check myself. I’m pushing my body too hard. It feels like it’s going to fall apart.
I keep running and I start to wonder what is holding me together.
The sirens begin to grow distant.
I begin to slow.
The stars are out. Burning up the night sky. I’m at a jog and I look up to the night above. It reminds me of a thousand other nights.
It’s peaceful.
And then the sirens disappear. Perhaps they’re still looking for me. Perhaps they’re not. I don’t know. I doubt they even know who I am. I doubt they even care by this point.
And the couple who were living in my old place, they’ve probably already moved on. They probably don’t care that I’ve come and gone. And why would they? I’m the smallest of speed bumps in an endless life.
I get to my parent’s house. Walk inside. It’s dark and dusty and I don’t care.
I walk to my room and sit down.
For all the years I have lived, I’ve accumulated so little.
A scattered few pictures that sit in a box and beg to be reminisced upon. Candid moments sealed in my memory. A hazy recognition of times that were once important.
Time may have little meaning, but it takes its toll.
The past is a mish-mash of what I can manage to untangle from my knotted brain. It’s a kaleidoscope of pieces that pretend to be a whole.
And I’m sitting in my room.
Thumbing through memories.
Holding onto Evaline.
And she sits down next to me. But it’s not really her. A memory. Although at this point I’m no longer sure if that’s any less real.
My fingers touch her fingers.
Why do I always come back here?
To these memories.
To my parent’s place.
Everything in my life seems centered on what was.
My eyes meet her eyes and it’s a shy sort of greeting that betrays feelings which were thought to be forgotten.
And the stars outside creep through the windows and into our laps.
‘You know, I miss you.’
It’s not a profound statement. It’s just what I feel. And the words come out in a slow crawl that tells me I’m giving up hope.
I hold her hand tightly because I can’t let go.
And Evaline, or at least her memory, pauses with a thoughtful look.
She asks:
‘Do you remember the last time we went camping?’
And the memory, it’s faded and washed out. There are moments I can recall. I remember it was a good time.
We kissed.
I remember the shuffling sound of our sleeping bags as they rubbed against the tent; as we thrust our hips together like maybe it was our last time.
I remember the crackling of fire.
‘I think I remember’
She smiles. Puts her head on my shoulder.
‘Where did you go?’
She doesn’t answer.
And it’s a soft kiss on the cheek that makes my body remember what it never forgot.
‘I told you where to meet me. You just don’t know it yet.’
And I feel my body tense up.
She’s right. I think.
But my mind, it doesn’t work how I want it to.
I put my arm around her and look out the window. I’m watching the stars.
Thoughts wander.
