Prelude to ‘The Last I Loved’

I realized last week that I can’t remember what my prom date looked like. I can remember her name and hair color, and the color of her dress, but when I try to summon the contours of her face I get stuck, and I’m left only recalling the basic outline of her silhouette. I was never in love with the girl, nor do I have any real interest in finding out, say, where she lives now or what she does for a living. But I can’t help feeling a twinge of sadness at the fact that I’ve almost totally forgotten a person who was once important to me.

from this month’s 30 Days of Good challenge.

I was talking to my best friend about that wonderful sense of emancipation that comes with living from moment to moment. Over time, travel has become like a drug that I use on occasion to numb the feeling that I’ve leased my life to the gravity of a tenure-track position. If there’s anything I’m afraid of, it’s that day when I won’t be able to tell the difference between recreational use and a full-on addiction. While living from moment to moment is nice, I’m pretty sure we’re all looking for something more infinite.

You meet people, you bid farewell, and confine them to those final glimpses, leaving no more than impressions on the entire landscape of your memory. What happens when you want to keep some of these people instead of returning to the (let’s admit it) wretched land mass that spat you out.

I would like to think we all have choices in these matters, but not all of us are given that luxury. Most of the time we have to leave these people while we wander back into our own little versions of the infinite; while we continue the narrative.

On a lighter note, it makes me happy every time I see the words “Master of Art Studies” beside my name on our school’s online registration system.

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