The Past

Days pass, but I’m not sure where they go. I settle back into a comfortable place. The dust forms, but I haven’t forfeited all that happened.

I like reading written words, but I like it better when they sashay off your tongue and dance into my soul. Because that’s when you come alive. The old has gone, the new has come.

But the past has a way of sneaking from behind and grabbing your ankles, trying to pull you back into old patterns. Lessons “learned” and we still repeat mistakes.

A year ago I received a phone call. I couldn’t understand her as she could only sob. Through tears, I heard the pain of a breaking heart as a life was taken in a room somewhere else.

A month ago I was in a different country with people I had only known for a little over one month. I knew in the logical part of my mind we wouldn’t keep in touch. I miss people I didn’t even know a year ago. They became family only to become strangers again. And my heart is saddened. But the dust forms around the memories we made. The cobwebs build on the conversations we had as it all becomes the past.

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