Do you recognise the
best time of your life while it's upon you, or only as you look back from an
arbitrary future?
Everyone has one moment
they look back on, the one moment we wish we could relive over and over. A fleeting
whisper in which everything else melted away and, for that brief flash, all the
hidden corners of our heart and soul were shared with one person. A secret
realm witnessed only by the two, which the rest of the world would never be privy
to. Like an island of the purest perfection in an ocean of chaos, we close our
eyes and revisit that moment, feel the nirvana again for an instant. But alas,
we must open our eyes, and it’s gone. If we could go back, if we could live in
that moment forever, we would happily stay, frozen in time, drinking in the serenity
until our last breath.
Sixteen years ago I had
such a moment. One night that has lived in infamy beneath the surface of my consciousness
all these years. An exquisite moment in time which rises above the turbulent
waves of my existence at the mere mention of his name. I dare not speak of
it for fear of corrupting the memory. I dare not let it out for fear that its
release into the world would taint its beauty. While it stays locked in my
heart it remains mine, remains shaped to fit the space inside me where it
burrowed sixteen years ago. It can’t be poisoned by disordered thoughts, or broken
by tumultuous emotions. It remains a warm place I visit when the world is icy,
a small beacon to light my soul when all is dark.
So I close my eyes. I relive
my moment. I feel the warmth, see the beacon, and experience nirvana. And when I
open them the world is that much colder, that much darker, for having
recognised the best time of my life… too late.
