With a fire

“…and you say ‘sorry’ like the angel heaven let me think was you, but I’m afraid: it’s too late to apologize, it’s too late…”

Ever hear a song that reminds you of someone you wish you could forget?

I’m sure you have.

It happens to me constantly, but the song I snatched some lyrics from is one that reminds me of too many people at once. I’ve got three different versions of it on my iPhone. I was listening to some music and editing my novel and with some insane roll of the dice my shuffle played all three in a row.

I don’t know what the odds are on that one but I’m sure it’s a statistical nightmare.

I can barely fathom the feeling. It seems like every shed tear hit me at once, as though my heart broke and re-broke several times over with nothing to break the fall. Just a series of near-fatal crashes; one atop the next.

Images, scenes and still-frames fly by me, happiness turns to tears, love becomes hatred and rounds back again. The cycle flows through faces, places and names.

I re-lived half a lifetime in what was surely only minutes.

I find the happiness so fleeting but somehow the sadness sticks. It holds you, like hands made of razor blades; each caress draws blood, and I am furious at myself for believing.

And then, almost as soon as it began, it was over, spent like a cloudburst. I found my center, heart beating wildly, breathing ragged and uneven.

It felt exactly like that moment your head breaks the surface after staying underwater too long.

It was surely one of the oddest things I’ve ever experienced.

I absolutely hate it when my powers of description desert me.

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