Going Back To That Place

Waking up this morning, eyes moving all over, to what I thought wasn't a dream. Morning. Fleeting memories. And upon getting up, gone completely. Not a trace, of my running across the beach, of my laughing with these faceless friends.

Not a trace.

My head resting upon the bus' window, music blasting in my ears, that I heard so many times I don't hear no more; my mind, racing not of thoughts but of images, concepts, ideas. Considered, admired even for a moment, then gone, sometimes forever.

At times, something special endures, perdures, despite the waves washing it all ashore, for sure. And at times, this something special is a place, with someone, at a specific moment in time.

Oh to go back to that place...

Walking forward, both hands on the straps of my backpack, I notice a bird, proud and colorful, singing as if its only purpose was to sing. And so intensely the bird sang, I stopped and took it in, completely, just for a moment. As the world buzzed busily all around, this bubble of the performer and his impromptu listener somehow flowed forward undisturbed, so vivid its red feathers and clear its notes, repeating as if its message was of upmost importance, its sentence, proclaimed upon it all, with all its vitality, effort and knowledge, the bird sang, and with perfect attention I listened.

Thinking back, the moment felt so intense and meaningful, yet nothing came of it, if not for a somewhat ridiculous memory.

As the day went by, the bird died.

And as the sun made its way downward, inevitably, I walked past the bird's body, stopping as if to honor a lost friend. Down there, in the grass, this lump of flesh, feathers, legs and beak, desecrated.

Yet buzzing in my mind, the intemporal symphony I listened so intently, the breath of life of the bird, that was now missing. The essence of its existence, distillled in a few notes, repeated over and over, for any to hear, into infinity.

That night, I ended up walking home from a night out with friends, much earlier than usual. I felt suffocated in there, surrounded with people seeing not myself but some distorted, sickening version.

The wind from the nearby coast invited me over, and I followed this path that lead straight to the beach. Lost in thought I didn't notice another person was there, further down the path, alone. I kept my distance and looked up to the stars and moon, shining bright.

What a beautiful, peaceful night. And here I am, troubled by some social nonsense.

Looking down as to not trip down the path toward the beach, I noticed another star, this time on the ground. I got closer and realized it was a cellphone, reflecting the moonlight. Closer to the waves now the stranger stood still. That girl had dropped her phone.

I didn't feel like talking to anyone, but I grabbed the phone and made my way toward her.

That night, nothing in my mind but numbness, confusion, and a deeply rooted desired to free myself of it all. The waves called me, the moon called me. Leaving my phone behind I removed my shoes, hoping the water would drag me by the ankles and make me vanish without a trace.

Yet it was fresh, cool, almost otherworldly. The veil lifted for a second, and I realized where I was, and I laughed quietly. Would I dare take another step, and another?

Before I could decide, I heard some rustling behind, someone else was here. Damnit.

I turned around, and it was some boy in a hoodie, holding my cellphone.

''Sorry to bother you, I think you dropped this.''

An idea, sprouted and took leaf in the moonlight;

''Can you hand it to me please?'' I said.

I didn't want to take my next step, for I feared it would decide what would become of me.

The boy looked at me, and stepped in the waters, his shoes filling with the saltwater, his hand reaching out to me. I almost wished to take it, but instead I grabbed my phone from his hand and threw it as far as I could in the ocean.

He just sat there, dumbstruck. ''That's not good for the ocean.'' he said, looking back to me.

What a silly boy. He looked a few years younger than me. I told him ''Thanks, but I don't care.''

He sat there in silence, one or two steps behind me, as we both looked toward the dark body of water.

''In a way, our phones are our lives..'' the boy said. ''Why would you throw yours away so easily?''

''Why do you care?'' I asked him, irritated.

''What about the memories, the pictures, the music, the notes, all of them?''

I turned around toward him, this boy talking to me so openly.

''What if I don't care about the memories? What if I hate the memories? Doesn't it make sense to throw them away?''

We locked eyes for a moment, in the quiet of the beach, under the moon and star, to the crashing of the waves,

And locking eyes with this girl I looked intentely, with all my attention, I took the moment in completely. In these few seconds, our eyes told the story of our lives, the feeling of betrayal from life, the longing for true connection, the search for meaning amidst all the rot envelopping it all,

and as I wished to grab her hand and drag her back to shore, a melody came from the ocean, faintly at first and gradually getting louder. The melody, sort of similar to the one the bird sang. The melody, coming from her phone, that was pushed back ashore by the waves.

''I forgot its waterproof..'' she said,

and we both laughed. Yet she didn't pick it up, and so I did. I felt like I had no choice. As I got up she reached for my arm, locking eyes once more, as if telling me to let it go. I didn't, and as I walked back ashore she was dragged along, the phone still ringing. She was asking me to let her throw her phone away once more, that its hers.

I sat down on the sand, and so did she.

''Are you going to answer that? Someone is calling you.''

She sat there, her face looking down, her hair covering her face. She didn't say anything, and eventually the melody stopped.

She was taller than me, and her black hair was pretty long, and I wondered, what was she doing alone acting in such a way. I refused the idea that she wanted to throw it all away, because why would anyone want that.

''If you feel like talking, I can listen, why not..'' I said.

She looked at me through her hair, squinting her eyes.

''There's nothing to talk about really. I don't see why you cherish your memories so much.'' she said, looking over to the ocean. A stronger breeze pushed her hair back, and she continued, side-eyeing me.

''When you face reality, you realize that our lives are soo absurd and meaningless, and that no matter what, we are bound to be forgotten, and all the suffering we're going through means nothing at all and -''

I stopped her. ''You think its all for nothing?'' I simply asked her, quite shocked at what she was saying.

''I mean, yeah, do you need examples?'' she said, raising her voice. ''Do you even know your great-grandparents names, their stories? Do you remember what you ate last week for dinner?''

She looked tense and agitated, as if rehearsing some arguments she had practiced over and over.

''We don't even remember most days in our lives, so what is the point in living at all?''

I looked at her, and could only think of that dead bird, and its melody, echoeing in eternity.

''What if what matters really isn't all the little details, the mundane and the days melting into each others.. What if what matters really is moments, scattered across our lives, unforgettable moments, and all else is just noise.''

As I was saying that, her eyes opened up more and more, and we locked eyes once again.

What is this boy saying? Moments, unforgettable moments, and all else is just noise? Something sort of clicked in my mind,

akin to the handle turning, the door opening, and a flood of these moments came crashing in, much akin to the waves at our feet, as the tides rose.

My sister running to catch up to me, my mother cooking our favorite food, our father coming from work early, the first time I rode my bicycle and went down the hill, and a dozen more, some shining more than others,

and these little unforgettable moments shone like the stars in the sky, and looking at that boy sitting next to me, I realized that this moment right here was my moon, shining brighter than any other, beacon of hope amidst the dark night and darker ocean.

I reached for his hand, and for the first time in my life I opened up to another person, for real. I told this boy about all the special moments he helped me see. I told this boy about silly memories and also about much troubling ones, and he listened. Not only did he listen, he opened up as well, telling me some strange story about a bird singing its life away..

That night, I decided to live to create more of these moments.

As we got up, after talking for who knows how long, we locked eyes once more and hugged, a hug of complete understanding, of acceptance. As we made our way back up the path, I realized I had forgotten my phone once more, and the boy ran down to pick it up for me, as if he was saving me once more.

That made me laugh so much, genuinely, I erupted in laughter filling the silence of the night, and the boy came back smiling in a strange way. The lights of a nearby house turned on and we hurried away. We looked back only once, to the distant shore, to where we sat, and where the star and moon shone for us only.

How long has it been since then?

Both hands in my pocket, I walk down the path, going back to that place, chasing something I didn't even know I needed.

I walk past the house, and stand where we looked back. Down there, no trace of that night, of course. I make my way to the beach, and sit down at the same place I did all these years ago.

The sun is setting.

Yet the sky is a bit cloudy, and its much colder than back then.

Is there no way to relive that moment?

I think of her, of her laughter and her breakdowns, of her messy self, and how close we were, and how many special moments we shared together.

The moon is high, and flickers through the clouds. The stars are hidden, and I curse myself for coming here, for desecrating the memory.

I look up to the moon, in my mind the special moments spent with her, flashing through, and I almost lose myself in the gaze of the moon, as if it was her eyes..

I get up, and staring at the dark sky and darker ocean, I hear that melody, unforgettable melody, and smile, crying big tears of love, as the red bird flies away, singing the song of its life.