BEFORE.
There is now and there is before.
I am here now. In a land of so many twists and turns, it’s sometimes difficult to comprehend where I am. So rarely is the sky not blue, or the air not crisp. The leaves change slowly and fall slowly. Decisions blend into days and days into decisions. This is surely, now.
Now, mornings begin with a winter chill – the kind that leaves the sky feeling far away and drenched in otherworldly colors; which can remind anyone familiar with the cold of a place called ‘home’ – a sea level static; grey-morning doldrum. It’s the same feeling of remembering a dream but not being able to form the words to describe it.
Now, I am alone. I am in a continuous loop of longing, feeling, questioning and caffeine induced creation – to only be followed by the crash of night, melatonin topped sleep, a new day, and the repetitive in’s and outs of unknowing.
Now, I begin again, knowing what I don’t.
Now, the memories begin to feel more like a nostalgia-induced nightmare on a groundhog day loop. Always waking up in the same place and unable to replace the old with anything new.
Before is finite.
IT is crystallized in ancient rock; fissures of my brain, memories like fOSSILS solidified INTO STONE.
I am tied to BEFORE like it’s my throne, a kingdom I can’t reach or rule.
Before is difficult to reach, but I do so with eyes closed, in a carbonated wallow.
As the season comes to a close, the sun rises and heat collects within the high-altitude air. It is in this shortness of breath that I wait. Heart-steady and strong, I falter, fall and watch. I collect moments like stones of Superior.
A song comes on and I become everything that was before and now.
I see you, and I am sitting next to friends, touching legs. I hear her laugh, I watch as saliva is shared with drinks passed from lip to lip, white powder licked from phone screens, in wide-eyed displays of emotion – and a share of pain-inducing laughter. The comforts of familiarity exist, but I must dig to find them.
