Tag Archives: memories

once in a lifetime

I am a new creation. At the risk of sounding extremely narcissistic I will say, I am like nothing the world has ever seen and there will never be anyone like me ever again. I am a combination of my personality, my talents, my features, my experiences and my thoughts that cannot be recreated. This experience, this life that I am living right now, will take place once in a lifetime, in all the lifetimes that have ever walked and talked and breathed the air of this Earth and swum in its oceans and taken in the warmth of the sun on their skin.

Take a moment to think about that.

Sometimes our days feel like too much of a burden to bear. Our existence feels like a curse and we will wonder why we are here. We are here because we are different, because we change things just by existing. Even if that existence might seem small in comparison, just like a name etched on an old desk connects us to an unknown part of history and lets us know that someone once stood in that same place, we too shall be remembered.

People will try to convince us that we need to accomplish certain things to make our lives can matter, with champagne and cars and chateaus and vineyards. . Bank notes feel no loyalty towards anyone; it will pass hands from one man to another because that’s what it was meant to do. The only things we can own are our actions and words because that is how we truly make our mark on the world.

Our lives already matter. We matter simply by existing.



I need to write because I need to heal but there is part of me that I can never put on paper. There is a part of me that is filled with hate when it should be filled with love and I carry that burden around like a deep gash on my skin. I am constantly reminded of it.

Physical pain numbs my mind. My focus is shifted and I am given a moment in which I can forget, a moment so that I can pause and regroup, and hate myself a little less. It is not an escape, but an opportunity to rest before I must start running again.

I keep running but my destination is not a place my feet can take me.

There is a place in my mind, where I am 5 years old again, and I am able to trust you and laugh with you again like the last 19 years never happened – but they did, and you were taken away from me just like she was taken away from you and it made you bitter.

She still talks to me sometimes, and tries to bring me back to you and it’s not that I don’t want to listen, but her voice only makes me think of all the chances we lost and miss a life I never had, and that hurts too much so I block her out.

You should have fought for me when we still had a chance.


I sat at the table, and stared at the picture frame in front of me. I stared until my eyes drew out of focus and the figures and colors turned into a blur. My mind drew backwards, further and further into a dark abyss.

I could picture her there, crying herself to sleep like I was recollecting something I had been a witness to, like I had watched over her but how could that be possible? I didn’t even exist back then. Is this what an out of body experience feels like?

I tried to talk to her like I sometimes would in my mind with the people I knew. She wouldn’t respond the way they did. I could only watch her now, like a ghost in the room.

I didn’t feel like her. Like myself. I felt like I was someone else, with the memories and the experiences of a younger version of me. Of her. I cared for her. I felt her pain. I wanted to look after her like a child. To comfort her and tell her she would be alright, but I couldn’t. I tried to reach out to her in my mind, but time flowed between us like a deep ­­ravine that separated us.

This all feels so unreal to me now. I remember the way things used to affect her. Things that used to hurt her don’t get to me anymore. I don’t feel anything. The only thing running through my head right now is this memory of her. A single thought has replaced all my emotions, ‘This would have hurt her but I don’t feel anything.’

Why don’t I feel anything?

I appreciate the lengths my mind has taken to keep me sane but this experience seems too foreign now. I am impalpable. Little by little I am being unhinged from the entrapment of my reality. It scares me because I thought I could make it. I mean, I have already come so far. How much longer could this last right?

That’s when I realize that I never made it at all, at least not with all the pieces of me intact. Some things had to be left behind to lighten my load but they hadn’t gone silently. Not without leaving behind an imprint of her to remind me of who I once was, maybe with the hope that I’ll find a way to be her again. To save her from the past and bring her back to life when it was safe for her heart to feel, and trust and love again.