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Perfect Trees

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May 2012
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How long has it been?  Almost seven years.  I used to daydream at night and stare at my reflection and wonder about someone special.  I used to hope and be discouraged all at the same time.  My mind spent thousands of moments of restless thoughts.  However I do remember that on my head I know this too will pass.  But tonight, at this very moment I remember him and the afternoons we spent under those perfect trees. Like those quiet moments you have alone when it feels alright to remember.  Then your mind starts to travel even to those places where you have already locked the door.  But you know where you hid the key.  I would sometimes think that time is a bit unfair, because it makes us lose the feeling although not the memory.  I admit that I was silly then, I was not sure of what I was doing.  I did not know how to deal with the situations.  I was ready to let go even if I wasn’t sure if I really do want to leave.  But these are all pages of my history book.  They are facts.  But time and again, I find myself sitting in front of my laptop or writing on the pages of my journal and write about that time with him in my life.  I guess, because when someone becomes special, he will remain protected — hidden in the very depths of our subconscious.  Like a masterpiece stored up in the attic.  Once you take a look at it again, the beauty has always been there.  Preserve in its glorious magnificence.  That every line and every color reminds you of that moment you painted it when you were overwhelmed with emotions.  That is why the picture is sacred.  I believe a painting which is not for sale is the real masterpiece.  Because it is the heart of the painter.  That is why he won’t sell it, because if he did, he’d lose a part of him.  The core of his soul.  He will just hide it wherever safe and guarded, until the time comes when he wants to have a glimpse of it again.  And relive that fateful day.  I guess that is what I am doing right now.  Just want to remember.  And then hide the painting again.  I might never sell this one.  Just for the memories I guess.  After all, it is who I was and who I am now.

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