The Past Passes A Present To The Future.

When seeing past experiences are you supposed to get a feeling, a motivation, a moving motion that gives you a concern? Some do, some don't and most deny. When wandering down that crooked path of befriendment and breaking all ties, the lines gray and smudge like a charcoal painting left by my open window on a rainy fall day. Lines bleed into others, smudge to make them thicker, and sometimes run to make them thinner; making it difficult to differentiate between where your heart and head started believing and where your left feeling now. Theres that sudden twinge in your gut when you see that person, telling you the memories you have taken such intricate time erasing, you may tell yourself to forget but your heart and body always remembers. Remembers those summer nights that you spent beneath the stars moon and sun together, learning, living, and loving together. Remembers the sweet words that fell off the lips of the other between the two of you like sipping a sweet cup of tea, whispering phrases that are written for movies and placed at the end of fairytales, and surprising you with things that you could only dream of. But then as the silhouette begins to approach your eyebrows go from a soft arch to a furrow, you remember the hurt that came with those smiles, the twists of fate that ended the happy nights. The truths that were hidden in the shadows of the lies you came to believe as realities, and the words that were said that once left a sweet song in your head now hold resentment and anger, a power in the words in which was never intended, because the truth was never meant to be found. The truth was never supposed to set itself free from the shadows of the lies, but it did, and now above the gut feeling you hold when first seeing this figure, your memory kicks in, the heart beats begin to slow; you fall back to reality, and another part of your heart that you've closed off for safety crumbles a little when you remember why you did what you had to do.