The Pain Of Remembrance Is Love’s Echo

The Moon

There are certain images of people that despite everything we do never fade away. The actual person might exit our lives but like ringing bells they linger in the air. Sometimes, the memory is more powerful that the real deal. The person is a human being full of flaws and imperfections. But at the risk of sounding like Ra’s Al Ghul in Batman, if he or she transforms into a memory they turn immortal, free from all of reality’s limits.

If we’re lucky those people are the ones who brought something positive to our lives. They’re the noble figures who changed us for the better. But there are those echoes that come from a worse place and never stop tearing at our hearts. When it’s someone we used to love that presence stays in some of the most private corners of our souls.

Memories end up as dimmed voices bouncing around the tunnels of the mind. The moment passes, what remains is the legacy in all its pain and joy.

Remembering an ex is like living in a haunted house full of twists and turns through winding pathways. You come across unforeseen sights that once upon a time brought passion and smiles. After time it became corrupted, a joy transmuted by a dark alchemy into something sinister and terrifying.

Like every ghost worth the name, it pounces on its victim in their solitude, those lonely moments shrouded in darkness. You think you’re safe and sound walking along the path, thinking about nothing in particular. Then without warning you hear a sound like her laughter, a sweet perfume that danced in her hair, a light comfortable touch that disappeared far too quickly, leaving you wondering if it was your own imagination.

Remembering an ex is like looking at the night sky hoping to feel light. During the day the rays shine, filling your body with warmth, radiating life-giving kisses. But the day ends and the night spreads. The beams from the moon are impostors, sending out a pale, cold light. That’s when the truth is revealed, the moon is an echo of the sun giving false hope, the cruelest hope of all. TC mark

featured image – Angie& Chris Pye

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  • http://mylifeinhisfullthrottle.wordpress.com mylifeathisfullthrottle

    Reblogged this on mylifeatHisfullthrottle and commented:
    It’s funny how people share the same sentiments but rooting from a different experience. It’s funnier though, it’s the same old drama– that thing they call, love aftermath? But seems like I’m never getting enough; never knowing better.

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