thoughts: time capsule

"I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places."

Do you ever walk pass something that catches your eyes and they linger on it for just a second? And that second is just enough to take you to someplace of a different time? To a place and time where someone is waiting for you? 

Like a time capsule. 

Sometimes it's not even a physical object  but a glance, a touch that resembles that glance and that touch. Something that achingly tugs my memories. Sometimes those memories come to me in overwheming waves that drown my mind, making it hard to breathe. My eyes end up shutting tightly, trying to hold myself in the present. Sometimes the memories float around me, in shimmers. Not really there but just enough to pull me in.

To that time. To that place. 

It happened today. I was walking down a quiet street lined with brownstones. I could hear the busy hum of the city around the corner. I was content to be in this quiet space on this quiet street. The trees were moving with the summer breeze, giving a peek of sun here and there. No one was on the street with me. It was just me and the rhythm of the walk. I remembered stopping at one point and looking up. I always looked up. But this time it was different. Something was different. Maybe it was the way the houses and trees looked that were familiar. Or maybe it was the end of summer, pre-fall air. Or maybe it was the way I was feeling at the moment. But when I looked up, I closed my eyes and took a deep breathe. And in that moment, in one second, it took me back like a time capsule. And I was with Patrick.

I was standing on top of a ledge, in awe of being up high. And I looked down to find him looking up at me. With that look of his. The look that always made me tilt my head at him, wondering what he was thinking. He was smiling. I smiled back. Time was still and we did not have any care of what was happening outside of us. We often shared moments like this. Moments that felt like we were stealing away from the world. Moments that lasted no more than a few seconds or minutes but felt like eternity.

Without a word, he reached out to me. His arm extended, the hand open. It was simple. A very simple act of weighted feelings. He was always reaching out for me. I looked down at his unwavering hand. My hand reached out, meeting him. And when my hand hovered above his, I could feel his warmth engulfing me. Before his hand closed around mine.  Holding on. 

Then I breathed out. My eyes gradually opened. I was back on the quiet street. Still alone. My hand twitched and I looked down at it. It felt warm. My fingers were softly curved as if still holding on. To a loving memory. I looked back down the street and continued on.