Day 220

Today I learned rememberance.


While driving I was listening to the radio, thinking how much I truly love Vivaldi, especially so early in the morning, only to hear them announce it was Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No.3. Both Baroque, true, but somewhere my music history professor was shuddering.

I started remembering people I'd forgotten, some for the better, perhaps, but still I found my thoughts drifting back to them. And it's nice knowing that somewhere they are out there, and some may even write me back.

I'm remembering old habits, old rituals and fall backs that always got me through. When something drastically alters in your life, you feel the need to alter against it that way the change doesn't just have you but you alter, you're the change. A new hair color, perhaps. A rekindled old flame, a new residence, maybe even state. The possibilities suddenly expand as the small world you once inhabited has disappeared in its entirety, leaving behind fragments you're already convinced you're forgetting. And it's a rather unsettling feeling. The dichotomy of wanting to resist the change and advance along with it.

Some things we just label wrong and we mistakenly file them in chapters they were never written for. And it's good because when you leave the wrong moment you can be on your way to the one that's waiting.

But what if, what if that tiny glimmer of hope, that little spark of love that is left, is there not in error but in truth. What if the answer was there all along? Wouldn't that just be a twist.

Either way, I know. And knowing is half the battle.



Afterthought:



Dear God,

I seem to have misplaced someone. Could you please help me find them? If you see them before I do please tell them that everything will be okay and that they should meet me in Montauk. Things usually seem clearer when standing on tiny, little rocks. But you already know that. You did make them, after all. Thanks, God.