Prose Challenge

so the beginning of each sentence was already selected as part of a writing challenge...

I remember the first time I ever saw the outline of her fading form, disintegrating into horizon, returning to oblivion.  From that instant she was stricken from my recollections, my fading memories. I don’t remember her face, her name, or where I had even seen her; all I can recall is that I did perceive her at one point or another, somewhere.


In time, this will fade too.

 I have always tried to find her, but from a vanishing vantage point everything that surrounds  me erodes into dust, powdered, blowing, carried away in the wind. I see clues everywhere, each one panging my mind with a sudden jolt that surges through my body: the resurrection of a memory. The pieces take form from the void, slowly completing a tattered mosaic that barely resembles a reminiscent form, but only hints at one, erring on further endeavours of future discovery.

I don’t see her though, the illusive and enigmatic creation of my mind, but I do feel her…I have never felt as compelled to know anyone else as much as her, but to know her, I must first know myself and recall what was once lost. I know in some distant time I may have recanted and abandoned this recollection, it may truly be a self inflicted wound, but even though the gash has healed a scar remains, reminding me of a faint and far away notion that begets an inevitable reunion. I don’t know when or where this may happen, perhaps it already has, many times before, and I am now treading upon the same path in an infinite loop, chasing my own tail.

 I want to give up at times, but in those fleeting moments a sudden foresight emerges and spurs me on: a flash of hands being held, a sunset by the ocean, music I have never heard but seems so nostalgic. I wonder where she may be, and if she is searching for me; as time goes on I feel we are getting closer. I don’t wonder how it will happen, I wander on, and the cosmos reveals itself, herself, to me. I don’t want to ever stop, to have come so far, and to recede like all waves inevitably do, seems such a waste, gravity and momentum are on my side and when the alignment is in tune with my will the ocean will rise and there will be no more tides.

I hate this feeling of recalling but not remembering, of inklings but not knowing, but take solace in the fact that this, as with everything else, is impermanent. I love that as much as I feel incomplete, and do not recollect my past in entirety, that this is also impermanent. I try to find her. I try not to try that hard…

zousu zousu
18-21, M
Feb 15, 2010