Pavement, resentment

We walked through the woods on that trail through the verdant hollow, as green as my love.
High stepping over branches on the narrow footpath.
I had pointed to the road sign for the park. We had time for a detour and so broke from the caravan.
But I should have known then. You walked so fast in front of me, leading to nowhere. The path made a loop and we had all the time in the day- so why so quickly? Perhaps it was because you were going nowhere.
No one knew where we were, including us, and it should have been an intimate stroll– just us alone together in the woods, but it was not. Eventually we made it back to the car. Stepping from the dirt path onto the paved lot- now looking back I do think I knew then. Your pace was too fast. It said it all.
Six months later I caught up, miles away from that park, standing at the edge of the blacktop of a parking lot in the city, this time facing out. The only tangible sense was that of gravity, holding me onto a solid ground. A blur in front of me, some sort of grass lot and a fence maybe. But yet it felt as if I was teetering on the edge of a precipices.
At the brink, I knew my heart had gone over the edge. It was lost in that woods miles away and alone. I was paralyzed. It was as if I were already asleep and anesthesia wouldn’t have affected me in this nightmare. Processing was impossible.
Now neither memory holds the tactile details. I don’t remember, was it cold out? I know it was dark, late, but the temperature I don’t recall. Still the emotions remain palpable.
I was led away to a stranger’s room to spend the night in a sleepless state- dry heaving and dry crying. Pain I never knew of numbness, accompanied by meals of antacids and Tylenol.
There is so much I resent about my memories, so much I regret about our neverexistent love.

About megannet

I am a self-motivated multimedia journalist seeking a career in the creative film and documentary industry. I am a recent graduate of Kent State University with a B.S. in Broadcast Journalism.

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