Memories Like Dusty Books On A Shelf

Hello, old friend. I almost made it through the day without you really crossing my mind. I know, it surprises me too. Usually, I can’t go ten feet or ten minutes without something bringing you to mind. The things you said, the things we did together, it all runs through my mind almost constantly. Today, however, your voice was strangely silent in my head.

It feels…different. I don’t really know what brought you bubbling to the top of my thoughts, but here you are. Not bombarding me like you did when you first left, not running furiously back and forth like you have ever since; you’re just sort of…here.

It is oddly comforting. It is so calm and quiet. It feels like my memories of you are old books on a shelf. I am slowly taking them down, one by one, and flipping through them, breathing in the dust that rises from pages long unturned, savoring the senses and sounds they bring to mind. It’s so peaceful.

Is this what it feels like to come to terms with something? For the first time, it doesn’t hurt. Well, it always aches, but it’s not a bad ache today. I don’t feel like my soul is bleeding right now, which is a blissful change.

I do still have one question for you, one that I’m almost afraid to ask myself; a question that I wish you could answer for me, but even if you were here, you really couldn’t…

After all this time…am I finally okay?


One comment

  1. Dusty · March 1

    Are you ok? Only you know the answer to that.


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