The things you are about to read within these pages are true. I will change nothing but the names and places. This actually happened. To me. No, I can’t explain it. No, it doesn’t make sense. And lastly, no, we didn’t live happily ever after. At least not yet, and most probably, never. Never in a million years. Well, hmm. On second thought maybe by then we will have found each other further along than we are this go around. But I’ll get to that.
The disappointing truth is, I don’t know why it happened. Perhaps I never will. But happen it did, leaving me with more questions than answers.
Bittersweet memories (scars as some might say) keep me company, my relentless thought companions. My body, upon which quietly rest these invisible fingerprints that stain me, remnants of interference from something so much larger than myself.
I am left undoubtedly changed. Torn. Endlessly introspective. Quizzically puzzled. Searching for answers that I very well might not be entitled–in this life, or the next.
That being the case, faced with the likely possibility of a forever “To be continued…” subtitle hanging over the picture of my existence, I feel an obligation to preserve what I can, making good use of it for what it is (and everything it is not) sharing it with this sleepy world, as thirsty and in need of something wild as I find myself in life.
As difficult to believe as it may be, these things actually happened. To me. And I will never be the same. I am forever irreversibly changed by a destiny I knew not. One I still find myself foolishly clinging to, senselessly hoping for, lost in wistful daydreams of–a life I’ve brushed so close to I could taste it. A life where anything is possible and everything happens for a reason.
Perhaps by virtue of the fact that I am still living and breathing as I write for you today, coffee in hand, it could be said that this story in reality, is not truly over…until I am.