| Now you see me, now you don't... Or something like that... |
[10 Oct 2004|11:59pm] |
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mood |
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 quixotic |
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music |
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Lonely is the Night - Billy Squier |
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woh jo hum mei.n tum mei.n kar.aar th.aa
tumhe y.aad ho ke na y.aad ho
~~
The transcience of life, when it hits me, always does so full in the face and takes me completely by surprise. Which is altogether strange, because life goes well out of it's way, time and again, to prove just how transient it can be. One would've thought I'd be used to it by now. Or, at least, better prepared.
Everything seems to be fleeting, at best. People, places, events; even memories aren't as enduring as they're made out to be.
I knew a person once. I knew her like I know the palm of my hand. Probably better. I certainly knew her better than she knew herself, and that's saying a lot. And everything we did together; every little thing that transpired between us seemed like it would last forever. And then we weren't together anymore. And we stopped meeting up, though we did take the time to talk over the phone sometimes. When it was convenient. Or when the pain of separation was thrown too sharply in relief to ignore. And each time we spoke I realised that I don't know her as well now as I did before. But little incidents, while brushing my teeth or making my breakfast would remind me of times I had spent with her. The memory still fresh enough to paint vivid pictures in my mind.
And gradually the frequency of our conversations dropped. And all we ever did was make polite small talk. And little things wouldn't remind me of her as often as they used to.
And eventually even that will cease. We'll stop talking altogether. And I'll probably even forget her number. And even the last vestige of her memory would leave my mind. It would probably be as if she had never existed, never been. Ever. Everything we did together wouldn't matter anymore. For better or worse.
Six years of my life, as if they had never been. After all six years are but a fleeting moment. Life is too long to hold in everything.
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