“Whoa, I’ve never seen this many books in one place. Did you collect all of these on your travels?”
They turn slowly to look at me from the corner of their eye, hands crossed behind their back with a book in hand, locs sweeping across the span of their shoulders which are cloaked with a regal purple and glimmering golden robe. Nothing spoken, but a faint hint of a smirk graces their face.
We’ve met before, they and I, in someplace familiar but distant. It’s a feeling. When I look closely I feel like I’m on the verge of recognition. Their words disrupt my curious observations.
“Oh you know, I’ve collected them here and there.” They wave their hand in nonchalance. “You must have quite a collection yourself. I sense you enjoy getting lost in words on a page…”
I think on that for a moment, because, yes…
“You could say that. I may be a bit of an escapist.” I share in a moment of self awareness that I can’t help to have in their presence. I run my hands over the backs of books barely held together and ones pristine as the day they were created.
“I think some of my favorite adventures I’ve probably only lived vicariously through annoyingly complex characters and some poignantly depicted worlds in a book.” I say that last part as though I’m talking to myself, and when I play back my words, I look down, slightly embarrassed at admitting how little life I’ve allowed myself to live.
They don’t acknowledge my admission, and stand with their back turned to me.
“Hmmmmm, mmmhmmm.”
Stillness in the air keeps me quiet and waiting for them to express more.
“Are you breathing?”
Confusion.
“Heart beating?”
I lift my fore and middle fingers to my neck because shit, am I? Is it?? In this moment, barely.
“Um, yeah?”
“You get to choose, what this is, your life.” They sweep their arm through the air as they turn to face me. “It’s like your very own “choose your adventure” novel.”
Pffft.
“It’s never that easy.” I mumble under my breath.
Their omniscient eyes lock with mine immediately, holding me there, piercing through mine.
“No? What keeps you then?”
My brain needs time to catch up to their question. That feeling of familiarity creeping up the hairs of my neck. I consider what they’ve asked.
“I…I don’t know. I mean, shit. Money, I guess? And I juggle so much, how am I ever going to get done what I need to if I’m on the move? And I’m getting older too so I can’t keep putting off things if I’m ever going to have a house, take care of my family the way I want to, prepare for the future. I can’t just leave when…”
I’m definitely rambling. I’m listening to myself and all I hear is “womp, womp womp.”
“Do you not tire, journeying the depths of your mind so much?” They look at me imploringly. When my mouth doesn’t produce a response, they continue. “All the thoughts of how and why or why not. I’m surprised you can find your way out of all the holes you venture into in there. It’s as though you’re on a thought treadmill, just running.”
They’ve moved into my space, and now hold my head softly in their lightly aged hands, taking me in with genuine interest, turning my head from side to side, up and down as though examining me.
“Fascinating.”
I furrow my brow at that.
“Have you noticed it’s not taking you anywhere at all? That must get exhausting?”
Well damn.
“I can’t always stop it. Sometimes it creeps up on me…”
As I speak I realize my voice isn’t the only voice I hear.
“And before I realize it, I just get stuck in there…”
I stare into the chestnut brown eyes that seem to hold galaxies within them. Words didn’t leave their mouth, and yet somehow I hear them loud and clear.
“What just happened?” Two voices inquire together, except the question in my voice is one of puzzlement, while their’s is one of an inflection that holds knowing.
The skin around their eyes crinkles with the warm smile that spreads across their face.
“I’ve been trying to reach you for quite some time now. You can be very difficult to get through to, with all that noise drowning out my voice and all. Have you caught onto why I’m here?”
My mind is held in shock.
They clap me on my shoulders before retreating from my personal space, and I miss their presence instantly.
“It’s time. You’ve hidden long enough. I’ve watched while you’ve chased distraction after distraction, made excuse after excuse. You know it’s time. That’s why you’re here with me now, in this place.”
This time, they wave both arms through the air in a grand gesture as the room is illuminated by endless lights and shelves of books.
“Are you ready to remember?”
Not realizing I’m doing it at first, I nod my head in agreement.
Without warning, they take a seat on the soft surface below our feet. I feel compelled to follow suit.
Then it strikes me, the locs, the curvature of the lips, the knowing in the smirk, the boldness of the nose, and the gentle boom of the voice. Those features begin to scream at me. As my brain puts the pieces together, I am finally able to speak again, only it’s two voices speaking again.
“You…”
“We…”
“Are one. Always have been. You just needed to find our voice again.” This time a chorus of voices meld together, pushing through at once. It’s almost too much to take in.
The two of us are staring at one another, although it’s clear the space is filled with more than just us now. Together, we let our eyes drift to a close.
“The choice to live is in every moment. Not just the big unforgettable ones, but the seemingly minuscule moments too. We make that choice with every thought we think, every word we speak, every feeling we bury, every debilitating second of indecision, and every feeling of joy we decide to derive from our experiences. We hold the choice to live. You can choose.”
I take in an unending breath.
Flashes. I move through a space existing outside of time, sometimes recognizing myself in memories I move through, and other times not recognizing the person in those memories, but still feeling connected to them and the experience nonetheless. Flashes of worlds and lifetimes beyond what my current form would allow me to remember, all come crashing into my body.
birth. exploration. dancing. grief. terror. heavy breathing. passion. warm meals wafting. inner earth worlds. illness. defeat. sophisticated architecture. flying. hesitant touches. destitution. excitement. children. innocence. running. waves. crashing. expanse. beings unknown. worlds unseen. subtle smiles across room. shyness. malevolent grin behind back. betrayal. forgiveness. destruction. community gathering together. awe inspiring beauty. arms wrapping. intimacy. love. and living. living. living. life. life. life. loss. loss. loss. transition. spirit. existence beyond innerstanding. connection. one.
I snap back into myself sitting motionless on the floor, legs pretzel crossed, feeling at home in my body like never before. Feeling sound.
I exhale, my breath finally ending.
I stand swiftly on my feet and look down at the regal purple and glimmering golden robe that I now adorn, as my locs sweep across the span of my shoulders, arms folded behind my back with a book in hand.
A slow smirk makes its way across my lips as I slide the book into its place on the shelf, the gold letters on the purple book cover flash “A Tale of Remembrance”.
the end.