I’m just so damn sentimental. I kept all those things from so long ago, I kept them in my closet, in my car. I kept them when I moved cities all the way to Nashville and I kept them stowed away in memories once everything was gone. I kept all the old letters and the stupid invitations; I kept all the records of our little conversations. I kept all the old photos, until one day I burned them, and even then I made sure there were copies somewhere just in case. I was on the train this morning with my old notebook, little swirls on the page became pictures of you, your eyes coming through my memory, my hands working involuntarily. I lost myself in it, in making the curve of your smile, not again, I thought, not again. I lost myself in the things I tried to forget, in the rounding of a shoulder and the way your hair used to fall in front of your face. I knew people were watching, I had missed my stop a few times, but truth be told I had nowhere in particular to be, and I didn’t have any pictures left. The bus driver lurched back and forth, and the bus emptied out, a slow trickle of backpacks and the clunking of hard steps off steep platforms.
“What is that?”
Someone from behind me inquired, I didn’t realize we were alone now. Just me, this guy, and the memories.
I said all I could, I said “it was everything”. I’m too sentimental, I know it too. I couldn’t explain why everything, I couldn’t articulate that everything was the way your smile broke and everything was the way you laughed, and everything, well now everything is nothing.
I shouldn’t have said that, not to the stranger on the train, his eyes quickly darting back to his feet, my response perhaps too honest or perhaps too tragic.
I stepped off the platform, holding the book to my chest, wondering when this particular hole would close.
Wondering why I am so damn sentimental.
The response to the stranger was, well, ‘everything!’ A beautifully poignant story.
An articulation of many of my own thoughts and internal inquires. I am sure it resonates with others, as well. I am pleased to have read it.
thanks Dan, glad you liked it 🙂
Most of them are sentimental in this world and situation play vital role in it….moreover we are humans to have emotions and feelings and not god.
Ah, the stranger should have been more careful with what he asked… not everyone can bear “everything”…
Thank you :)?
I enjoyed this. Such a familiar place for me at one point in my life…
So glad you enjoyed it 🙂
Beautiful, gentle and very well observed
Thank you Peter, glad you enjoyed it 🙂
You were so damned sentimental because you were brave enough to love, now be brave enough to live.
Awesome…felt as if it were me !!!
A lovely story. I could feel the emotion.
This hit me hard. 🙁
A bittersweet reminder.
🙁 I’ve got that thing where I’m really happy it hit a chord but also sad that there’s a chord like that to hit. Thanks for reading May
It stirred something in me cos in a way, I am sentimental and have the tendency to hold on to things longer than I should.
I read this sipping my late night tea. Then, I put my cup down, and re-read it over again. “Be brave again” is what I heard after reading it. 🙂 <3 I just finished up a personal post on my personal heartbreak, and I'd forgotten how much writing equals healing for some people. It's such a release for me.
Please, continue to write.
That’s a really nice thought, might just use it for the next story 😉 thanks Savannah!
I am too. It’s nice to know I am not so lonely.
Such a great piece. I particularly like the setting of a bus taking you no where in particular. I can thoroughly relate. Going back into memory can create a real aimlessness, and often I find myself taking extremely long walks or boarding trains for no reason. A really beautiful slice of life.
thanks andrew, I find that it’s in crowded spaces that we are most able to lose ourselves.
..That just meant everything..(speechless, yet trying to find words,sigh!)
thank you 🙂