The sun is shining in weird angles. Places in the apartment that didn’t get any sunlight are now bathed with it intensely. I know, it is the shift in seasons. It is just curious how these small details still catch my attention, even after repeating themselves over and over again.

I am glad the sun is out. It doesn’t matter how long it is gone, when it is back, it always manages to make a clear statement ”I will show up eventually“. That brings me comfort. It makes me look forward to brighter days when all there is is darkness. I guess part of my perseverance comes from the fact I always expect that the light will be back, no matter how or when.

Throughout most of my life, I worried. I still do. I worry that I am not healthy enough, good enough, happy enough, fast enough. I worry that I am late for what hasn’t even come yet. If I had known all the times I hadn’t seized due to my preoccupation with things, would I have been encouraged to change my behaviour?

I am looking at you right in the eyes. Yes, you. And time seems to have stopped. I observe how incredibly well the blue of your eyes matches with the blue of the sky. It is so damn annoying, I tell you. I hold your hands. They feel warm and cozy. I am about to let them go, but I am afraid that by doing so I’d be repeating the same mistake again… Not waiting for the cake to be ready; Trying to haste a step that needs time. So I hold on. For now.

The truth is that I don’t want to wake up from you. But I don’t want this to become a nightmare either. Am I really dreaming or am I wide awake? If I open my eyes, will you disappear?

In the realm of make-believe, I walk on a silver line, balancing myself not to fall from cloud nine. Step by step. Breathing steadily. Smiling and frowning according to the beat.

If I ever let go, please know that it was a last resort for self-preservation. And that I didn’t want to open my eyes, really. That whatever it was that was said was true at that time…

At last, know that I am not sorry.

Because maybe it just wasn’t the right time.

Maybe we will cross paths again, or maybe not.

And if I end up not letting go.

Well…

Then, let’s just scratch out the above.

I lie down on the living room floor and look through the window. The outside is upside-down, purposefully, and I can’t hold it but giggle a bit at my silliness. I notice how gorgeous the day is: the sky is blue and the sun is beaming strongly. Although the weather looks warm, I know the wind is crisp and the air is not as hot as a month ago. We can’t deny that Autumn is around the corner.

The leaves on the trees in front of my window are gracefully dancing and shining bright as the sunlight penetrates their surface. I wish I could hear their sound, but I can’t: I am listening to one of my favourite songs and I wasn’t shy when setting the volume to almost 100%. While the melody plays along, I keep watching the leaves jittering to the wind incessantly. My heart beats steadily, following the percussion of the song I am listening to.

My mind is far away, crossing a different galaxy as I navigate through a set of emotions. They aren’t loud, which is good, and nothing is foreign: I have been here before; I know this place like the back of my hand. I guess I should be freaking out. Instead, I shrug: It is because I know that the most precious thing to me will never be taken away.

I feel as “comfy” as one can be, floating on and spinning around massive waves of sensations and experiences, like a kid playing in a park. I see life blooming around me, beginnings and endings popping up everywhere.

For the first time in a long time, I love what I see on the horizon before me. It is no longer muddy or dark. It isn’t crystal clear either, but the truth is that it never was. I am gobsmacked by this bright light that is coming from it… Because this is no longer a promise, it is now a reality.

This light warms up every single cell of my body.

And for that…

For that, I am immensely grateful.

I roll my eyes the second I look at the clock and I realise I am fully awake even though it still is six on the dot.

I sigh as my options don’t look good right now: Closing my eyes again will only kill time; Getting to work so early will not make it any better.

I then stay in bed and wait for the big waves of questioning thoughts to flood my mind without a real purpose.

For starters, I am glad I am awake because waking up did cease what I would call a silly nightmare in which “he” throws another tantrum and trashes my place. No further comments on that. The dream before it was as bad: I was trapped in a woody feudal city, trying to stay above water as the whole municipality was being hit and flooded by a tsunami. As far as I can remember, I managed to survive, though it wasn’t an outstanding experience if I can be completely honest here.

I decide to get up – feeling defeated for not being able to nap again – and stand by the window. Cars are passing slowly. I mean, why would they even rush at this hour? The sky is grey and the air coming from outside is refreshing. No doubt the summer is phasing out.

The leaves on the trees in front of my unit will soon be all yellow, then gone. That in a month or two. And while I observe a few of them fall here and there, I think of how life’s about to turn again, just like this season.

Soon, I will be back to square one. Now officially. I can clearly picture this place less busy and quieter. This, in particular, doesn’t scare me, I actually feel excited about it: It symbolises the closure of another chapter, announcing that the darkest has passed and the dawn is finally tinting the horizon.

Although things are looking great, I am scared. Scared to death, as usual. Preoccupied with what I think will happen given past experiences (even knowing that the outcome is in my favour after all hurdles are overcome). Anticipating and preparing for things that might not even take place, like a survivalist. What a silly goose, right?

A ray of light breaks through the clouds and warms up my face. It soon fades away and the day becomes dull again. Its warmth lingers for a while before giving in, long enough for me to smirk.

“Good timing” – I think. Right before an imminent and spiral descent.

The alarm rings. It’s now seven. I wake up from this trance I am in and finally start my mundanely exciting routine.

The same realisation I always have pops in my head once again: Nothing is under control, just like it should be.

As the Autumn grins and waves hi with its spooky tiny little twigy hands, I watch the sunlight bathe your face in a late afternoon.

I am not sure how this makes me feel, but I can’t deny: I love the view. Maybe it is the shape of your iris or perhaps it is how the light enhances its colour. Something just makes this too interesting to be unnoticed. Without much delay, though, I quiet and smoothly focus my sight in a different direction. That breaks any possibility of tension between us… Or so I’d like to believe.

Life still feels weird. Ups and downs here and there, for sure, and probably more ups than downs. Yet, somehow the horizon is not as clear as it was “meant” to be. Whatever that means.

Everything feels foreign, weird and awkward like having deep conversations with complete strangers and being vulnerable with them as if we were close friends. Playing a game of give and take while measuring how much to give based on what we are taking.

How much to give is up to us. That until the choice is no longer in our hands. You know, it only takes one boundary to be crossed before we realise it may be too late to step back. Again, whatever the latter means.

***

I navigate through different universes, while delimiting the boundaries of my own with a certain degree of caution. I allow visitors from different galaxies to hop on and off, placing “do not enter” signs wherever applicable in hopes they will stay firm.

I am in control until I am not.

It’s boring to hold it all in.

It’s dangerous to let it all out.

So in this duality, I stand in between. Holding in what I can, while letting out what can’t stay hidden forever.

And if at some point my path intertwine with his, whoever he is, so be it.

A different outcome can only exist if the variables passed are not the same ones as before.

So they say…

You know, so they say…

I remember watching the horizon and the blinking lights of the city before us from the 26th floor when you suddenly ask me:

“Are you sure about this? I mean… Isn’t it too early?”

I can see the gears behind your eyes turning frantically. You are preoccupied. Your face tries to hide it, but your eyes are saying it all loud and clear. You have more to say, I can tell. But you choose to be cautious, picking the right words perfectly before putting them out there.

“I don’t know” – I brush the worries aside – “I am happy. Happy as I haven’t been in a long time. Guess I’m focusing on that for now”.

You look away. How can you make a comeback to that? You hesitate, I notice.

Right before I can ask you anything, you turn your eyes back to me and smile.

“If you’re happy, then be happy. You seize it with all you got and don’t let go”.

We look at each other and I nod.

“Alright”.

Fast-forward to now.

I am looking at the horizon with a weak smile. It is not the same scenery as the one on that night, but I bet it is as majestic as it can possibly be. The sun is not close to the sea. Yet, it looks as golden as if it were. The daylight is turning slightly amber as we approach the late afternoon.

This is a perfect beach day, as long as I find a way to fully seize it.

I am surrounded by people I barely know, but somehow I feel very comfortable.

I have a sip of the cider inside the black thermos. Someone turns to me and asks something kindly, to which I reply quite automatically. I can’t recall the question, but I guess it doesn’t really matter.

I feel so alive and so ready. Nonetheless, the mess I have just been through is still floating above my head as a stubborn stormy cloud.

I sigh, as usual.

“What is wrong?” – someone else asks me.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. I’m just thinking. Do I look sad?”

“Not really, no. You just look adrift”.

“Lost in my own thoughts, I guess” – I reply and smile – “Better get back to Earth, right?”

“Take all the time you need, sir”.

I close my eyes and focus on the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

I take a moment to feel the weak breeze sliding on my cheeks.

The sun feels cozily warm. Not as strong as a couple of hours before and also not as cold as the golden hour. It feels just right.

When I open my eyes again, I realise my vision is a bit cloudy now.

I scratch my eyes slightly and wipe my fingers on my shorts.

I stand up and go straight to the sea.

Thankfully no one asks where I am going to or if they can join me.

My feet touch the water and I can feel my skin retracting from the cold.

I observe my ankles getting beaten up by the waves while they come and go indefinitely.

A mix of all sorts of feelings floods my chest violently.

I stand still.

I am fine.

I breathe in.

I already said goodbye to you.

Now I must say goodbye to the dreams we shared so that new ones can come.

That is the missing piece in the puzzle.

I finally get it.

So I watch silently.

I watch our dreams being taken away by the cold waters of the pacific ocean.

One by one.

Leaving behind a colourful brilliant trace of possibilities that will never come true.

I see every moment I dreamt of imprinted in the water while the waves crash and blend everything together.

Then, I observe the resulting mixture of colours expanding like an exploding supernova, slowly spreading out in the vast sea in front of me.

This goes until the water is see-through once again.

Somehow, this isn’t sad: It is profoundly liberating.

I exhale in relief.

“Goodbye” – I say.

“Thank you… For everything”.

So I turn my back to the sea and walk away.

It is over.

I smile. It feels a bit stronger than before.

It is over, for good.

I heard the sun finally set for you.

Your final chapter took a while, though we could all say that, still, it was too fast.

It didn’t take too long for me to be notified of your passing.

Sufficienty long enough, though, as I wasn’t able to say goodbye.

Sigh.

I am relieved to know you finally found peace.

And that your pain is gone.

It is frustrating to realise that you had to go with it.

You didn’t have to, did you?

I guess you didn’t have a choice after all…

I hope that if you are still out there somewhere somehow, you find redemption.

I believe that is what you would want.

That… We will never know.

*****

As we spectate you blending with the horizon while you get further and further away, we say our goodbyes to you.

Even knowing you can’t hear us anymore, we say it anyways.

Go in peace and please… Please, don’t look back.

You already left a piece of you in us.

We already took all we needed, now we hold on to it.

That is good enough until we finally meet again.

Until then…

Rest in peace.

I woke up this morning with a bruise on my left knee. I don’t recall how I got it or why it is there. It’s just sitting here like it is a memento of a trauma that is yet to be healed.

I don’t have to close my eyes to spectate flashes of our last talk and how much we hurt each other. I remember watching your eyes through the tears barricading them and asking myself “How did we get here?”… “Why must it be like this?”.

Need I not say that dreams were dismantled both for us? My heart descended to a profound abysm just like yours did as we watched every single thing we pictured for our future falling through the gaps of our fingers like sand. I lost as much as you did and you should know it by now.

You once said you had more to lose. What could that even mean? How can you weigh things you are not aware of? It is unjust for you to think your sacrifices are the only ones that count. There are always two sides to a story. What about mine?

Your recent words pierced my flesh like never before. And I regret listening to them as I still don’t agree with how things were portrayed.

I truly hope you never feel the slightest remorse for what you said to me. You complained that I barely apologised for how I handled things, for how I made you feel… Now I ask you: Have you ever apologised for what you did to me? Do you really think you were the only one living a nightmare? Not recognising your faults on this won’t make things better for us. It will only cover the mistakes, not fix them. Fingers crossed that someday you will understand this. Not for me, but for yourself.

So… I throw you one last smile and say farewell to you. I don’t wave goodbye as I turn my back to you and walk away. I don’t look back nor regret any of the steps forward I am taking right now.

I still wish you nothing but the best, though I won’t say it. And as we get more distant, like celestial bodies being pulled away by forces from opposite directions, I long for your happiness. I really do. But now, from afar.

Eventually, in due course, you will become a vague memory to me as I, too, will to you. Once this happens, we will know, even if unconsciously, that our story is finally sealed.

And then, I am sure, there will be no more hurting.

Not a single cloud is in the sky to smear these infinite shades of blue.

The sun shines bright and beams its light at 60 degrees from the horizon or so.

As the environment becomes more lush and evocative, I feel I can finally breathe. The winter seems nothing but a vague memory of monochromatic days now.

A refreshing breeze caresses my cheeks gently, leaving a cooling trace behind. That is so mundane, but enough to make me content.

An indie song plays along while dry brown leaves swirl on the floor creating mini vortices all around.

The song playing reaches its climax with an intense and enticing fingerstyle guitar solo, which fills all the blank spaces and turns this instant into a movie scene. Well, at least in my head.

I look north and smile.

At the end of Granville Street, if you gaze downhill, you will catch a glimpse of the North Shore Mountains. You know, a small gift from Downtown Vancouver.

This picture transports me to my first day in this city. A younger me wandering around with no clear destination until I noticed the waterfront and realised I could see the mountains from there.

“What a beautiful city” – I thought, astonished by the landscape before my eyes.

I can recall trying to capture as much as I could from that moment… As if I knew I would need to hold on to that memory in darker times.

Glad I did.

***

I was so lost in the moment that I missed my bus stop.

In different circumstances, I probably would be frustrated.

Today, however, I just brushed it off.

The one-and-a-half-block walk would be another opportunity to enjoy the sun while it was still out.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back facing towards the sun for just a bit, enough to feel it a little longer before getting home.

Without analysing it too much and just focusing on feelings and sensations, it is curious to think about how the light feels warm against our skin.

I guess this is the best part of being alive: experiencing things without trying to decipher all the hidden mechanics that make life what it is.

It may have been just a sunny day with no clouds in the sky – Rudimentary like the flying of a ladybug – But deep enough to turn you inside out…

Just like it should.

We said our goodbyes after barely greeting each other. Or at least that is how it felt like.

I am unsure if it was your eyes that said it all, or mine that could capture all the small details that led me to this realisation.

I won’t lie, after we locked eyes and turned them in opposite directions, I looked over my shoulders in a successful attempt to see your silhouette against the sun one last time. I still can remember a shiny fine golden line contouring your shape as you walked away.

There was no soundtrack for this scene. I could only hear your steps becoming more and more distant. If there were one, I wouldn’t be able to tell what genre would suit this best. I guess I will never know.

It is quite “funny” to think about all the moments that we will never share. “Funny” because I truly believed they could become true. Even funnier to think that I imagined them so vividly that they could easily be confused with memories. If only I knew.

Look, this is not your fault. Perhaps not even mine. I can’t blame you for this. No, I don’t blame you for this. Though there was a tangible connection between us, it just didn’t work out and that is OK. Maybe our link wasn’t as strong as I thought it was. I could’ve been blindsided… Who knows? I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?

Don’t, for even a second, think that I hold a grudge for this. Not at all.

Goodbyes are just as magical as new beginnings and I appreciate them equally.

Know that although I won’t be waiting for you, you can still catch up to me should you feel like it. You know my pace as I know yours.

For now, it is a farewell.

But “now” is just as long as a fraction of a second. It becomes past even before you can process this word in your brain.

I hope you know what I mean.

***

At some point, you are anywhere to be seen. Vanished like a vestige of light in a void.

Soon enough, I can no longer recall your face.

It quite frustrates me because it was once so clear to me. So recognisable. I could describe every single feature of yours with my eyes closed. Not anymore.

I won’t forget our ending scene, though.

That shiny fine golden line of yours.

How it beautifully and graciously penetrated my pupils and engraved your silhouette in my brain.

That, my friend… That I will never forget.

When I think about beginnings, the first thing that comes to mind is a bright line: a vivid stroke of vibrant light that swings around and floats in the air, gliding and drawing shapes on a dark surface, always expanding itself and leaving a trace wherever it passes.

Perhaps my initial description is not a concrete representation of beginnings, but it is the only thing I can picture when I think of a start. After this depiction, everything gets blank. Opaque. Silent. A void. Though not for long: such abstraction soon transforms itself into real shapes and things.

I see a beginning as anything: a Big Bang; a glance; a smile; a “hey, do you know the answer for the question 3?”; a peck; Everything can be the start of something, even an ending. See, classifying things really depends on the prism through which you view them.

With time, the idea that beginnings were “anything” started to sound too generic. I wasn’t really satisfied with this concept, so I decided to do some field researching. My first stop was the dictionary: Commencement: “A beginning or start”; Start: “begin or be reckoned from a particular point in time or space”. I added these definitions to a notepad and asked some friends:  “What is a beginning? Any idea?”. The majority of the replies were kind of naughty: “Well, a beginning is a beginning, it is self-explanatory, man! What a rhetorical question!”

Yup, I ended up just sticking with my first source – the dictionary – and moved on.

A word started to pop up here and there, bothering me just like the buzzing sound of annoying mosquitos flying over your head in a hot day.

“Origin”.

Do you remember when your life started? Wait up! Before you too get naughty and reply something along the lines “With my parents, duh”, which would make me cry in fetal position, I’d like to mention that I am not referring to the biological side of it, but rather your first memory. The furthest remembrance you can recall. The latter is what instigates and interests me, because it reflects on what your perception of origin is. Not the one on your birth certificate. Yuck. It is about the commencement of everything for you, your starting point.

To me, my origin is defined by an ordinary weekday, a cloudy, boring, and dull one. “Boring” because it was a school day. “Dull” because I always detested grey days.

I remember standing still in front of the kindergarten school’s gate waiting for it to open, while my mom was resting her hands on my shoulders. I still can feel the anxiety nestling against my chest whenever I remember that day: All I wanted was the gate to open up so that I could pass through it and run towards the classroom to play with my friends. I think I was five, but I am not sure.

This was my beginning… How I remember starting to exist.

What comes after is a huddle of memories and fragments of disconnected scenes, followed by a bunch of unrecognised muffled voices and blurry faces I can no longer recall.

For some time, I thought I had better just stick with the definition of beginning that I found in the dictionary and just occupy my mind with something else. However, I would be pestered by new questions that would arise about geneses. Now this was all about what could trigger new starts: epiphanies, crushes, Platonism…

What can set things off? Would things be “activated” by “destiny”? What IS destiny? How profoundly can a single choice impact our lives? What determines the unfolding of the whole chain of events that paves the way in our lives? What actually initiates our beginnings?

Whatever the answer is, we are surrounded by starting points. They are like particles that encircle us and get activated constantly, generating all sorts of chain of reactions that guarantee the instability in our lives. They transform us, functioning as gears that keep turning so that our lives keep moving. Whatever that means and for whatever reason.

The beginning. The starting point, but also the arrival one.
The beginning. A digested ending?

I find myself in my last conclusion: Life is like an electric slot car racing toy set: you come and go in full speed trying to hold tight on whatever you can, hoping that the next curve won’t throw you off the rail. Time is racing with you, going as fast as it can. A single blink translating to a whole decade. Both of you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Maybe nobody ever can.

And with every new step, there is a new start. Something new comes up all the time.

And every brand-new is just another opportunity to build whatever you want to.

We are our own beginning.

Likewise, we are our own end.