Amid a heat wave I’ve become a prisoner in my home. All the windows are closed. The shades are drawn. I work on my work unaware of time passing. Minutes, days, months, and years have disappeared. And as more nets with friends are cast, reminding me of a time long past, I wonder: how did I get here?
It might be difficult to convince people who know me now of who I used to be. I’m often dumbfounded by how impossible it is convincing myself. Maybe it’s a useless exercise all together. But once upon a time I was someone who meant something to many people. And I haven’t forgotten that, even if it is a dull glow in my heart.
Sometimes I think it’s easier to stay inside. Let time pass on its own, without me as a witness. It will, after all. It will wear away at memories, dim the room, and silence the echoes. How could I ever leave this room, knowing what’s outside?