Why is it that our harshest memories, the ones we try so hard to suppress, are the ones that we are unable to forget? These glimpses of our past, windows into our shadowy souls, stay vivid and persistent. No matter how much we try, we cannot cage the animals or stop the flooding images from drowning our thoughts.
I have this one image, a face in a gray and rainy place, where my one biggest regret lies. The face creeps into my vision, casting a shadow on the rest of the world for a minute, just until I find the key and lock it back inside. The way that it, he, rushes back is what gets me. It is as if the moment is a reunion, where both of us run into each others arms and rekindle past months. But in reality, where I choose to live only a fraction of my days, we don't know each other. We never did. But yet, I feel the weight of him on me, as if I do know him, as if I bare his soul on my back. He is so heavy, and I feel that he wants me to share his life, his lies. There is just too much for one person to handle, and he has chosen me to lift him up and share the misery.
This is more of a thought; an observation.