Victory

Last night I noticed something on Facebook that has set me to thinking about the past. No, I am not going to tell you what it is. Yes, this post is going to be dreadfully cryptic. Apologies.

I keep wondering what would happen if I could go back to a moment in time, some year and a half ago, where everything went wrong. I'm not sure what that moment was, but I think it might have occurred sometime in March or April of 2009. The last good thing I remember from that middle age of my college years is the early hours of a Spring morning. It is a story I have generally kept close, and I will not share it now either.

Why does it always seem that things fall apart just after they have reached a point of near perfection?

I cannot help but imagine my present as intimated by that morning. It is full of comfort and joy such as I have not felt in some time. It is free of judgement and full of strength. I remember what it was like to have something I always knew I could hold on to--someone who was never angry at me or burdened by my problems, who never minded being my escape. I know it is time to let that memory go, but I just cannot get it out of my head.

There is a selfishness in victory. There are no partners in the I-told-you-so dance. I don't feel better for having won--just vindicated. And I am left with lonely dreams of a present which I lost without ever knowing how.