The Memory of You by Robert LaMontagne

The moment when you’re stuck looking at someone’s picture; you’re fond of them.  Lost in the moment and nothing matters but you. Time stops as you breathe in their existence to your universe.  Every memory you hold of their face rushes at your heart pounding the emotion through your veins like the adrenaline of their name to your ears. The excitement of their eyes chill the hairs at the back of your neck sending the awareness down your spine. You sit there and scan that photo taking in as much of them as you can, as often as you can. You notice how often you look at their eyes while feeling like every time you do they somehow acknowledge you back, while wondering what they’re thinking in this moment; what were they thinking in that moment?  Life begins, it flows through our flesh tombs while we encourage the thoughts that remain from a time that once was. A time in which we may have been part of that persons journey, or a time where our paths may have crossed, or a time where we hoped they may.  Scan their lips and their jaw line to hold a memory of their face when you close your eyes. To imagine the experience of their lips pressed against yours to a calming breeze as the branches on the trees rustle the leaves.  Heaven couldn’t be so familiar, yet as vivid as we would recall.  A distant faint cry from the hallows of your chest, like when the spirit of humanity were sent to the gallows pole – an interruption so sudden. You look away from the picture only to realize you sit there alone, wondering if they wonder about you the same, or if you’re just a ghost in the fog chasing dreams like a lost dog.  A nightmare nobody is willing to seek while tears are running down your cheek.

By Guest Blogger Robert LaMontagne

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