"Time - when pursued like a bandit - will behave like one; always remaining one country or one room ahead of you, changing its name and hair color to elude you, slipping ou the back door of the motel just as you're banging through the lobby with your newest search warrant, leaving only a burning cigarette in the ashtray to taunt you."(E.G.)
The first morning is horrible. You realize you’re no longer in the same place you used to wake up. A strange sensation of fear and loneliness covers your body like an old itchy blanket. The chills last for some minutes, while you stay numb in another bed, checking the room, looking at the walls, waiting for a noise that could wake you up from this dream.
It’s done! You’re home. Family and friends wait for you to react, to tell stories about your experience, to share with them your thoughts and wishes, to adjust in the new life you’ve just fallen. You unpack things. It takes days but you open up your suitcase and you start taking out memories one by one. I always collect small thing, receipts, tickets, crayons, flowers, things that keep alive feelings and moments, people and places. They feed my memory and they somehow help me move on.
One day you start going out with your old friends. You go to the same places that you used to go, you see sometimes the same faces on the street, you hear the same language. After a while you stop comparing things outloud. You keep it to yourself and you smile remembering. Life flows constantly in the minutes you take to get lost in yesterday.
Then you put the flag on the wall. Like pieces from a puzzle, days follow their natural course, creating the big picture. You’re no longer allowed to miss or to crave for the life that is left behind. You take the memories and the friends, the joy and the love and you move on to the future. Everyday you look at the flag thinking that your heart is split in million pieces and you know your life is forever changed…
Love, M.
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