The Ember Garden

Bittersweet

Those sweet memories
Those awful moments
That bittersweet past

Every memory lives so vivid
Every scar still gnaws deep

Those tiny wrinkles mark moments of history
Yet those huge promises live no more

How I love my naive self
that I wish still existed

Yet how I loathe the decisions she made
thinking she was gifted

How I enjoy looking back at fond memories
Yet how I hate knowing those times will never be back

Do I hate the past
Or do I envy my past self

Knowing those times will never be relived
Or those memories never repainted

I wish I could relive those times
I wish I could forget those moments
__

She repeated herself, this time more stern, calling out for her Daughter.

And like a flashflood, it all came back.
Well sort of.

All the memories  poured back into my mind. Memories that were burried deep rose out of their graves. My life was being played right before my eyes; the life that I hated so much; the life that I tried to get rid of; the same life that I wish I could just forget.

I remember being taken to the park and I remember loving the monkey bars. They made me feel like I was on top of the world. It would take ages to pry me off of them.

I kept on walking, trying to supress the memories underneath my heavy footsteps. I made quite a distance from the monkey bars before finally raising my head to have a look. This time, I saw a family having a picnic. The parents were sitting on a bench, while watching their children feed the ducks.

I guess faith had decided to mock me today. As if I'd been happy for too long. A tidal wave of misery crashed over me, filling my lungs, the memories choking me. Memories of childhood picnics surrounded and I could feel the claustrophobia setting in.

I always used to take treats for the ducks. We'd spend our whole evening outside and everytime, it would be the best day ever for me.

I turned the other way but before I could take a single step, I saw a grandmother playing with her grandchildren. They twirled around in joy and laughter. The hole in my heart got deeper as more memories were dug out and spread across.

Everywhere I looked, bittersweet moments played before me. Parents teaching their child how to ride a bike; kids playing tag; a couple cheering on their daughter as she climbed to the top of the slide.

Every moment was a vivid memory; a deep scar. A scar that I thought time had healed, but it hadn't. The scars were just as fresh as the day I got them.
Time doesn't heal scars, it only fades the moments when they happened.

Sprinting across the park, I entered the quieter side that had fewer people. I slowed my pace and watched back. My eyes went from one family to the other, one happy moment to the other.
I loved seeing others happy and I loved recalling find memories. It was enjoyable feeling a wisp of those moments, but it was nauseating as well. The joy from looking back was mockery. It taunted my current life and rubbed in the fact that those people and that love is no longer. I hate it.

I sat on a bench, focusing on my breath and staring over my hands, not daring to look over at the people enjoying their lives. Their voices, however, still poured into my mind. I could practically see it all playing before me from just the sounds. All because I knew how it was to happen; all because I knew those moments.

By the time I pulled my head out of my thoughts, trees were lined with a golden glow and the sun was hardly visible. People were going back home and I wanted to do the same. I wish I could...