Occasionally when I’m feeling uninspired, I will peruse my drafted posts to see if there is anything worthwhile that I had abandoned. Sometimes, by giving the subject matter time, I end up writing my favorite pieces by doing this.

Sometimes they were left for dead for a reason.

I found this short essay dated back to June of this year. I didn’t post it simply because I didn’t view it as worth sharing. It was a throwaway. Reminiscent of a schoolgirl diary entry that didn’t hold much value.

However, for some reason, I just couldn’t delete it.

Unfortunately, the specifics of the essay mean less to me now than the greater point I was trying to make: Attempting to capture an emotion that you are trying to forget.


When is it that you have realized you’ve moved on?

Is it when you run into that person and saying hello holds the same indifference towards an acquaintance on the street?
Or is it when you meet someone new who reminds you what it should feel like?
Maybe it’s when you realize that the person you cared for never really existed at all?
Or that they never cared about you.

Maybe it’s writing this post.

I asked myself to write this essay while the sentimentality was still active, but post it after I realized I had moved on. Unfortunately, against my wishes, the piece went unwritten for my subconscious did not want to confront an emotion it was quickly trying to move past. The feeling of losing what I finally thought was tangible.

My fear was that one day I’d wake to an empty notebook page with all the conviction and affection lost.

And that is exactly what happened.

Now all I’m left with are a few sentences scribbled down in a notebook and the inability to recapture a sort of romanticism:

“Because I don’t want to forget that at one time, I inexplicably left passionate about someone.
I don’t want to forget the
first time I realized I was thinking of nothing else other than you and the moment we were in. The night I kissed you before you ever finished your sentence about wanting to kiss me. The time we were riding in the elevator and I moved to step on the wrong floor and you pulled me back into your arms. Thinking I could stay in the that hotel bed for days. Waking and finding it difficult to pull my hand from your cheek. Studying each hair on your head. Remembering each wrinkle on your face. Shying my eyes away when I realized you were doing the same exact thing.”

But I will forget and all will be replaced. Others will come and go. Just another memory that holds minute sentimental value and the impossibility to write about posthumously.”

Like it is right now.

To wherever this ship may sail, you wrote to me on a mix tape.
The answer is: You shipwrecked it onto a pile of jagged rocks.
I waited for the ship to dislodge, and when it didn’t, I jumped and swam away.
I gave up wondering if you were still there, for every time I turned to look back, you veiled yourself in a thick fog.

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  • Reply jo October 14, 2010 at 4:22 pm

    Sometimes not acting when a wound is fresh it the best thing to do. I really like this post, maybe because I've been there, but especially because I feel your honesty.

  • Reply Emily October 14, 2010 at 4:40 pm

    The last sentence is truly brilliant, I really liked this post. So incredibly well-written.

  • Reply Brooke Farmer October 14, 2010 at 4:40 pm

    Everyone has been there.

    And those few lines you did write at the time captured the moments you wanted to hold onto.

    The rest, I guess, you didn't need to keep.

    Nice post.

  • Reply Jo October 14, 2010 at 4:43 pm

    I particularly love the last part. You've put it really, really well. Nice one.

  • Reply ashley October 14, 2010 at 5:12 pm

    its as if you were inside of me singing the same song. the last few lines really touched me. (i'm finding it hard to fight the tears back to be honest.)
    knowing that the emotion is universal is a comforting, but often forgettable thought when you are deep within it. thank you so much for sharing this. <3

  • Reply Adria October 14, 2010 at 5:36 pm

    I'm so glad you decided to post this…it's so hard to remember what things felt like, and sometimes it's okay not to, but I think it's better to write it down. Again, glad you did.

  • Reply laurenne October 14, 2010 at 6:16 pm

    You are amazing.

    I totally feel you. I love those moments and sometimes it's so hard for me to be in them without fearing right then that I'll forget them.

    How complicated we all are.

  • Reply Hipstercrite October 14, 2010 at 7:44 pm

    @Jo- Thanks, Jo. I did write one post right in the beginning, but it was sweet and definitely civil. This one just popped up somewhere down the road. It's funny, I also joke about how I haven't met anyone who made me want to write about them, but I guess this person did…

    @Emily- 🙂 Thank you…

    @Brooke- I didn't want to post this, but I forget that you're right, we've all been there…

    @Jo- Thank you!!!

    @Ashley- I'm going to email you!

    @Adria- I think you're right…it is better to right down. It's just hard sometimes..

    @Laurenne- That always means a lot coming from you!

  • Reply erynn chelsey October 14, 2010 at 8:13 pm

    this made me feel better/worse simultaneously about some shit i'm dealing with. thanks, it's always nice to remember other people have been there

  • Reply Jessica October 14, 2010 at 10:00 pm

    Sigh…I love your writing.

  • Reply Big Mark 243 October 15, 2010 at 1:54 am

    I want to say 'Aww…', but not because I am sad or anything for you. In fact, it is the growth that it took to reclaim those feelings and not to let them weigh upon your heart.

    While I know you only from what you share, by sharing this particular entry, I feel a closeness to you. That is because you are such an excellent writer and you know how to really reach 'right there' to the crux of an emotion and you speak for so many people without compromising that you are writing for yourself.

    Anywho… thanks for sharing. Take care.

  • Reply StrangeBird October 15, 2010 at 10:41 am

    This post was really lovely – I'm glad you kept it. 🙂

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