They've finally completed the demolition of the apartment complex I previously stayed in. Not even the fence remains, just flatness and dead grass with scattered trees and concrete slabs in the shape of a place I had called home some far off time before. With a bit of guesswork, I approximate where my bed was placed, sit down roughly where the edge used to be. And think.
I used to live right... here.
In good fortune and bad; I came here to feel safe, to shelter myself from things that caused anxiety and despair. And, like so many safe places before, it is gone. Things have changed, opportunities have shifted, and there is no way to go back. No way to return to any of it. I used to derive such satisfaction from this job. I used to be able to count on and cut loose with this group of friends. I used to fit so perfectly in these arms...
I used to live right... here.
I swear I did, I think to myself. Of course, this desperate, shaky impermanence of the world around me also holds the possibility of a change of fortune so amazing I couldn't possibly predict. But right now, tonight, I just want to sit here and watch the sun set.
Alone.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment