I look back to one year ago… It’s remarkable how we can relive moments in time. You see, I’m not just thinking about one year ago. I’m there, holding hands with myself. I’m weeping by my side. I’m smiling and laughing and singing songs and reminiscing… and I always return to weeping. I’m rubbing my back, whispering gentle reminders that I’ll be okay. That every end leads to a new beginning. That death brings appreciation for Life.
I look into my eyes as they glaze over while staring in a mirror. I read into them and know they see Singapore. They see the faces of nine team members with whom I once considered myself inseparable. I see skylines at every hour of the day. I see freighters coming to harbor. I see stages and lights and smiling faces and girls I have accidentally swooned. I see brokenness. I see so many Broken Pieces. And then, I see Hope.
My shining eyes break away and here I am again, walking around an empty house. My movements are mechanical, without personality or strut. They need to be. All of my heart has gone to my head, leaving my body to its own. The weight of my heart brings me to my knees, and now I sing aloud as I let tears streak across my face, unwilling to let go of any remnants of the Feeling. Leaving the house brings pain, so I return. The details don’t matter because I only perceive and process my inner self.
I lay down to sleep, and it is here I can detach from one year ago. I stay to brace my shoulder, smooth my hair, wipe the tear from my eye. I’d sing a lullaby, but you can’t hear the future, only the past. I wait until dreams accompany me, and I walk away.
And I am, once again, still, alone.