It’s funny how you can come across a complete stranger, know them for all of a few seconds, but somehow they manage to unravel you, like a ball of thread that had been all knots and intricate patterns held together by something. Then all of a sudden that something disappears, somewhere I cannot see or feel, nor anticipate returning. The replacement is a heaviness in my chest full of sorrow and pain, an emptiness that was not there a moment ago. I feel bereft because of this brief encounter.
I know that things change, life is transient, nothing lasts forever, nothing lasts five minutes, a long five minutes, but five minutes nevertheless. Like a wisp of smoke exhaled by an extinguished fire I realise I have nothing, and my eyes burn with remorse, with the guilt of being too outspoken possibly. Of saying too much and overstating my welcome. Maybe I’m too strong, and perhaps that is my vulnerability, no-one wishes to stand with someone who overshadows them, who makes them feel as small as I know I am now.
I can’t even remember the name of the person that made me feel this way, that took everything away from me in the blink of a light short circuiting because an unseen force passed through me like a spectre from a place beyond my knowledge. Their name is irrelevant.
I realise that all my friends were nothing but illusions, paper cut-outs made by a child left waiting for someone to return, someone who knew her worth and valued her for it. Except no-one ever came, I wait and still no-one comes.
All I have left to say is goodbye to myself, and to the smoke rings that halo above my head. There is no solidity or solidarity that I know of left to touch or treasure as if mine. It was all an illusion anyway, apparently so, and so quick to vaporise and turn to nothing again. My love affair with paper-dolls is now over.