IDK

I have an obsession with recreating the past. It's a derivative of my control issues. I'm someone moving through the world with high sensitivity (in the literal sense of perceiving the five senses with an acute and sharp response), an insatiable taste for understanding and knowledge, and deep desire to not feel as replaceable as world and cosmic history might suggest.

I'm a paradox. I want to know the intimate details of moments that have preceded me. But I'm paralyzed when my mind accepts that these moments did not include me, more precisely my presence was unnecessary to the momentum of the moment. It's chilling. It feels like I'm a character in a movie that I never knew I was going to be a part of. Something binds me to perceiving these moments. It's similar to a child with eyes glued to that horror flick they shouldn't be watching. The fear they feel is clear when you approach them but what's even more fixating to watch is the pull of excitement they have. Is there something they are about to learn, are they about to observe something that will reveal the mysterious ways of the universe to them?

I know that's how I feel trying to recreate the past. What I can say with certainty is that my obsession is more or less a revelation of an opposite force.

The future is entirely what my obsession with the past has to do with. I'm an actor,once again, in the most convincing and suspenseful movie I have ever witnessed.

The people in the my life flow in and out with incredible force. I glance into their eyes and see the confusion we share. They too are characters in their own movie. I watch their eyes flicker and take me in with befuddlement as to why I am here before them. The fear is latent.

With lovers this takes a form. I lay beside mine as she is sleeping. There is no great facade of smiling through our fear; we couldn't possibly share this much time and space without folding under the pressure of that. Indeed, that's is the tying bond of love to me. When you deem her/him the person that will watch you take off the mask. Watching someone willingly step away from their awareness of this movie we all step into every morning is beautiful. Finally here we are ditching our role as actors where we incessantly try to be half of a second ahead of our lines and the next scene coming up looms on consciousness. It's beautiful to have someone like this but yet she doesn't entirely fit this role. She tries her best but I'm left still hungry.

You know that feeling of treading water in the middle of a lake? Your far enough out where help wouldn't come quickly. It's obvious that everything is resting on your shoulders and the physical ability to stay afloat. Isn't that what it feels like to step out the door every day? Treading water isn't so hard right? But sometimes we grow tired. Sometimes its uplifting to just have someone there that will tread water with you. Watching them is in itself a replenishing act.

And it's beyond comforting to know someone would save us. It's necessary to not falling prey to despair. In the end, love and its comforts are not describable in words. There is no doubt in my mind that we have another unperceived dimension where love and bonds like these persist. The pull of them is too strong. Or maybe I'm just scared that we will never understand them.