To have a connection with someone or something like a place, a song, a painting, or anything for that matter is rare and BITTERSWEET.

Connection usually goes way back in time, or before time became time. It is intricate, complex, and heavily laden with emotions and invisible memories that we feel and know so well but can’t remember and can’t comprehend. We just end up only grasping the tiniest tip of it, which is the connection part, for that is the only bit that our little fragile souls can handle.

It is sweet because those intricate, deeply rooted, and invisible memories warm us up, ignite us, and make a part of us feel like home, we combine the aliveness of infinity, that past and present instantly. Our heart pumps, pumps new blood, again because we are more than we are, because we are all we are, all we have been, and all we will be, and suddenly we are alive. SO ALIVE. Because it is all in relation, in reciprocation to and with the other.

The bitterness is in our own emotional  dementia will stand in the way. Our inability to actually remember why we have this connection will silence the symphony we have inside, so we feel the music but in silence. There will be music but no sound.

But the real bitterness is when it is  one sided, the forgotten memory is one sided. And you have to watch it fade away as you leave that place, or person, knowing that you remember them somehow, and they have forgotten you. COMPLETELY.


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