Dear Palindrome,
They never tell you how much your arms hurt in the winter. We don’t see the damage done. It’s a metaphor. A consequence of the great high that was us.
I don’t need to tell you what happened between us. You were there. What happened after. That I can share. You changed my life. You diverted a river. Every amazing thing I learned has a sharp and infectious edge.
Palindrome. There was addiction. Me to you. You to me. Us to everything. Licit, illicit, taboo, queer, kind, crazy. We had heat. I took our ember and made it a flame. After you, I lit up the night with the mad burning energy of a human at the edge of abyss. No matter the fire, I could not brighten that chasm. A part of me wanted to jump, fall and see how deep the pit went.
But thoughts of you filled my mind. I screamed them into the silent darkness. There fire was in my eyes. All that heat warmed my spirit and I remembered.
Palindrome. I rarely wander in the darkness of memory. There are many broken things to stumble upon. One could trip and fall. Still thoughts arise. I explore. I cut my feet on the broken picture frames. I smell oil paints, roses, diesel exhaust, cat litter.
Palindrome, my heart remembers the amazing things we did. We tackled the world. We made things happen. Then… I don’t know. After you left the neighbour told me that for 6 months our dealer would visit at 9.15 am and leave at 4.45pm. Funny. I was working full time to keep the wheels turning.
I don’t know what I would say to you if the waters of chance washed us onto the same beach. I don’t think I could say anything. I would wonder how we survived that shipwreck. I never did believe we would survive. But I miss you, old friend and sometimes friends don’t need words.
I lost a lot of time after I lost you. I discovered new things, new people, new dangers. I carried the flame, and I cried like I’ve never known. I hunt for parts of you in others. And in a way, I cannot bear to remember you. But time erodes even the hardest stone. It’s okay to stand by the abyss. You don’t have to stare. Sometimes it’s beautiful.
Xoxo Alex
TO BE CONTINUED…
By Alex Brownsmoke
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