Sometimes it takes something so simple, so ordinary, to make you remember a memory you’ve forgotten. Like an old song that comes on the radio reminds you of the person who made you a mix tape. Or the taste of Cornetto ice cream reminds you of the mini celebration of a sweet victory with your best friend.
I replayed the scenario in my head over and over again. I remembered how, against my better judgement, I tried to get on the Bosu ball, one feet on each end. I could not tell if my legs were trembling uncontrollably or the lack of core control, or both, but needless to say, I stumbled over quickly.
I tried and failed several times before I accepted H’s extended hand for support. My heart fluttered. I could not remember the last time I clasped someone else’s palm in mine, feeling the way I felt then…
….until I did.
I haven’t thought about this in the longest time. I remembered the first time I felt you, I felt a mixed emotion of confusion and security and a tint of fear. I knew then, at 15, with absolute clarity that we are not the only ones living in this world. Like oil and water, we co-exist with another dimension that only some could see.
I remembered as I closed my palms into an almost fist and you returned the grip with the same amount of force. Each seconds that ticked by felt like eternity and I could hear my heart beating. Finally, I softened my grip, whispered for you to leave, and counted to five, before I opened my eyes to the stillness of the night.
Until you find your way to where you belong.