Our ten year anniversary today (04/04/2005). Seventeen years as part of one another's life (25/04/1998). You always believed somehow in the possibility of communication, a link or a sign from those no longer in this world, so now I must believe that you are listening and hearing these words.
Today I think about us, just you and me for a moment. My life is so full of thinking and worrying about others, for responsibilities I have and naturally decisions I've taken since we last saw one another. No preparation and no training just the awful difficulty of carrying on and doing what you believed in so much, living! This but without one another in this world. I know you would see the difficulty of this. Some can look and judge but can only imagine what the experience must be like. Just from imagination. There are many who do care though.
You knew I was sceptical, quietly suspicious of what was for you an important truth, so now I will believe in it. You communicated with me! What you explained to me and how you clarified things when I listened made sense in that moment. Time stopped for an instant again much as it had done when your life began elsewhere. So ten years ago in Kephalonia, and then in Egypt, in Crete and Paris and Athens and the Lake District. In laughter, in fun, in our dark times and our good. Still here, but in a different way.
For the sunset beach and the skipped hearts
getting away and dreaming of freedom.
A special place, reserved in olive smells, pure white and diamond.
No memory is ever out of reach.
Forgetting the undercurrent amidst shifting golden sands.
No tear emotions and the intimacy of laughter, of fun and hope.
"This could be us, this could be our dream". Leaving it all for a moment,
No memory is ever out of reach.
The belief in you, the belief in me, in us.
Change, never still for one moment. The want that hurt us.
Secret thoughts, talking flows, talking stops. Silence and watching whilst others seemed to take flight.
No memory is ever out of reach.
Island, out of reach and difficult to get to.
A dream, an image, a better life.
The outstretched arm, hand, grasping at nothing.
No memory is ever out of reach,
Neither should no dream or want.
04/08/2005
M. xx
