I’m just so damn sentimental. I kept all those things from so long ago, I kept them in my closet, in my car. I kept them when I moved cities all the way to Nashville and I kept them stowed away in memories once everything was gone. I kept all the old letters and the stupid invitations; I kept all the records of our little conversations. I kept all the old photos, until one day I burned them, and even then I made sure there were copies somewhere just in case. I was on the train this morning with my old notebook, little swirls on the page became pictures of you, your eyes coming through my memory, my hands working involuntarily. I lost myself in it, in making the curve of your smile, not again, I thought, not again. I lost myself in the things I tried to forget, in the rounding of a shoulder and the way your hair used to fall in front of your face. I knew people were watching, I had missed my stop a few times, but truth be told I had nowhere in particular to be, and I didn’t have any pictures left. The bus driver lurched back and forth, and the bus emptied out, a slow trickle of backpacks and the clunking of hard steps off steep platforms.
“What is that?”
Someone from behind me inquired, I didn’t realize we were alone now. Just me, this guy, and the memories.
I said all I could, I said “it was everything”. I’m too sentimental, I know it too. I couldn’t explain why everything, I couldn’t articulate that everything was the way your smile broke and everything was the way you laughed, and everything, well now everything is nothing.
I shouldn’t have said that, not to the stranger on the train, his eyes quickly darting back to his feet, my response perhaps too honest or perhaps too tragic.
I stepped off the platform, holding the book to my chest, wondering when this particular hole would close.
Wondering why I am so damn sentimental.
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..That just meant everything..(speechless, yet trying to find words,sigh!)
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thank you :)
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Such a great piece. I particularly like the setting of a bus taking you no where in particular. I can thoroughly relate. Going back into memory can create a real aimlessness, and often I find myself taking extremely long walks or boarding trains for no reason. A really beautiful slice of life.
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thanks andrew, I find that it’s in crowded spaces that we are most able to lose ourselves.
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I am too. It’s nice to know I am not so lonely.
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I read this sipping my late night tea. Then, I put my cup down, and re-read it over again. “Be brave again” is what I heard after reading it. :) <3 I just finished up a personal post on my personal heartbreak, and I'd forgotten how much writing equals healing for some people. It's such a release for me.
Please, continue to write.
-sav
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That’s a really nice thought, might just use it for the next story ;) thanks Savannah!
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It stirred something in me cos in a way, I am sentimental and have the tendency to hold on to things longer than I should.
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This hit me hard. :(
A bittersweet reminder.
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:( I’ve got that thing where I’m really happy it hit a chord but also sad that there’s a chord like that to hit. Thanks for reading May
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A lovely story. I could feel the emotion.
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Awesome…felt as if it were me !!!
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You were so damned sentimental because you were brave enough to love, now be brave enough to live.
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Beautiful, gentle and very well observed
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Thank you Peter, glad you enjoyed it :)
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I enjoyed this. Such a familiar place for me at one point in my life…
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So glad you enjoyed it :)
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Splendid :-)
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Thank you :)?
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Ah, the stranger should have been more careful with what he asked… not everyone can bear “everything”…
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Most of them are sentimental in this world and situation play vital role in it….moreover we are humans to have emotions and feelings and not god.
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An articulation of many of my own thoughts and internal inquires. I am sure it resonates with others, as well. I am pleased to have read it.
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thanks Dan, glad you liked it :)
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The response to the stranger was, well, ‘everything!’ A beautifully poignant story.
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