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on steamed mirrors, everything's starting to fray a little. I'm not sure if it's old age knocking against the walls of my cerebrum or if it's something else. Something much more serious. A willful desire maybe ? A conscious effort to erase things and pretend like they never existed ? But, why? The reason escapes me. I've never wanted to forget...in fact, I've tried hard to hold on to every nuance of those spell binding years. Trying to reach back into the crevices of my mind and pull out scents, sounds, textures - but like moss-slick pebbles nestled in a bed of rocks, they've been hard to extract and harder to hold on to.

i guess that's what happens as you grow up and grow out of that fated phase of always looking inward. introspection, another vice.

it worries me. this slow and painful leak. silent yet filled with sound. i can't bear the thought of forgetting all those moments. the good, the bad and the fat, bulbous ones brimming with one hundred and one ill-fated characteristics. i cherish the times, when i find myself re-examining an old memory. those sepia-toned ones that coerce my feelers to caress every nook and cranny, re-learning the way my past has glued the pieces of my present together.

but yesterday, something fell. and while i dropped to my knees to frantically search for that lil' moment, something struck me.

I need to start writing those moments down.because the flip side is acting on them. I must write things down - so as to preserve them in all their nostalgic glory. and more importantly, to prevent them from birthing new realities.

in my mind, they were captured in glass jars like exotic butterflies with wings clipped - to be examined but never fully enjoyed. the sheer fear of losing them, breaking a jar or upsetting the precariously held beings of my past - is terrifying.

and that's why i reached out. i did the unthinkable last week. i did what i said i would never do. i found a long forgotten piece of our puzzle. and then i hit send. damn the internet. damn the ease with which you can reach out - vulnerable yet removed. the last time i saw her was on my terms. She was a vivacious little thing - sparkling brown pools questioning everything, creamy skin and the cheeks we share. she's on facebook and in university. doing law. we talked about that in hushed whispers when she was little. between games, sandwiched between dreams. sisters of the heart. and out of sheer whim, i broke a jar unintentionally. and one little forgotten butterfly enjoyed it's moment in the wind. i messaged her - no ties, arms stiff, mind dry, eyes - blinded by a foolish heart.

secretly.

in response, another part of her puzzle called my house and in no uncertain terms informed us that - there was nothing there.

the ties that once bound our families - no longer existed. i knew that there was no love lost - over time we'd all learned how to move on. but at that moment, i re-learned something again - blood isn't thicker than water. i will always love my mom in a special way because i know what it feels like to have siblings i adore. she gave me what she never had. and that's something i'm incredibly grateful for.

in hindsight, i know it's not that simple. one message can't undo years of unspoken hurt - flittering across oceans, ebbing and flowing in the silences that we've mutually shared. where did the words go all those years ago....and maybe that's why they need to be written before they're acted upon. because atleast that way, i can always go back and check to see the back story on something before i take a leap of faith and end up on my kundi.

--

wow, two things. both scary experiences. this verbal vomit that's cleared my cerebrum - a present for facing both fears. it was starting to cloud things. getting me weepy. but i feel like i haven't written in forever. and the fear of a blank page - electronic or not - was a hurdle unto itself.

i can only hope the language returns. like riding a bike one would say. except, i never understood that. because well, i never did learn how to ride a bike.