There’s a dim spark in the doorway of my memory that burns so low that it might not be there at all. Despite my ill regard, that spark flutters to life like a slow-melting candle on a nightstand, and it cannot and will not be ignored. It’s incredibly hard to look at it burning the way it does on low ignition. It’s a pin-light—a splutter.
The door in my mind is jammed open. No one can close it. It’s always open. Reality bleeds in like a disease. A numbing, flesh-consuming sickness. I cannot close the door.
I always see you framed by a distant glow. I see you floating just beyond the light that creeps through the cracks. You’re a shadow of your vibrance, but it’s you. There’s no doubt about it.
Of course, when I ask you why you’re so elusive and secretive in your abandonment, your image flickers against the light like translucent plastic film.
"Why do you keep the door open?” I beseech you imploringly while you ignore my essence.
I want to feel something solid in my hands, so I delve into your forsaken golf bag and discover a four-iron. It’s so solid; it feels real in my hands, and I wonder if I’ll be able to swing it. I wonder intermittently for hours before returning the iron to its comfort zone.
“What if I moved? Left the doorway unattended. Escaped? Would you languish there for others, or is your talent show only staged for me?”
“What if I got drunk and banished my thoughts?”
“What if, hey?”
Just you and me and failing hope.
Just you and me, my love.
My love.
We discovered so much together. There was a highway. Do you remember? When we took your father’s car and sped through the night like tear-aways high on adrenaline and youth.
Then there was the ocean, blue, deep, and dark in the early morning light. It pooled green in the shallows, and that’s where we frolicked like dolphins. We skipped across the foam while it bubbled under our hands. We were as agile as the sleek fish we imagined ourselves to be.
Your breath ruffled my hair so softly while we explored the dunes with our backpacks and our exuberance. Do you remember the sad reed that you gifted me with its bent countenance and its aroma of wild things?
"It belongs to you. “ Your words caught the breeze and echoed.
You were so delightful. Yes, you spotlighted my focus. I couldn’t see anything but you.
The wonder is that you saw me too.
We were such a remarkable team.
Then you found a doorway, and you snuck inside, and the waters of the ocean ran cold. The highway sank into oblivion, and I could see the outlines of the life that you left me with, and I held on. I hold.
There’s a door...
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