For Auld Lang Syne …

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Memories can hurt ...

Submitted: April 16, 2017

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Submitted: April 16, 2017



We two have paddled in the stream,

from morning sun till dine;

But seas between us broad have roared

since auld lang syne.


- Auld Lang Syne



I find myself grasping. Reaching back to memories of us. But the dreams disappear once I imagine the tips of my fingers scraping against the cement walls that keep you trapped. The stories end when the guard screams, “Five More Minutes!” Then we’re pulled back to reality. The dream dies when you walk out of the visiting room and I imagine you sitting in that metal cage.


Memories are a crazy thing, aren’t they? It feels so real when we talk about how it used to be. When we discuss the girls that were beyond our reach. When we talk about high school issues that are now laughable. When we acted out those stupid scenes from “Undercover Brother”. I still see your teenage-self re-enacting the karaoke scene. I can’t help but laugh. You haven't changed as much as you think. I still see every bit of good in you. I wish society saw it too.


But memories also hurt. Memories hurt when they can be taken away from you and you cannot reconstruct them. Memories hurt when you cannot hug your best friend because the guards think you may be slipping him drugs or a weapon. Memories hurt when you are given a limited time to share everything that has happened. Memories hurt when I have to walk away and accept the fact that you will never be able to visit me. We are forever separated by the Atlantic Ocean and I don’t know when you are getting out. But I will never forget us. And I will never forget you.


For auld lang syne …






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