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  • Writer's pictureS.S. Fitzgerald

A Feeling for a Moment

Another throwback from my older blog. I wanted to practice relapsing experiences through time and memory. I believe I have come a long way since. I hope you enjoy.

Charlie stood just out of reach of the tide. The waves came rolling and crashing against the land, an intruder in its path. His brown loafers barely protecting his wrinkled skin from the cold mist that came in with each crash. Thin khakis caught the mist and became lighter, however; the thick wool turtleneck encouraged Charlie's torso to radiate heat.

Sun spots littered Charlie's face. The breeze carried with it the mist of the sea and past. The images before his eyes were as if they were happening today.

He was 15 again for a moment. The awkward years between 10 and 20 where incomplete minds struggle to identify themselves in a rapid world. School was one thing, education another, girls another, and romance another. The exciting yet overwhelming feeling that existence was something greater. Charlie couldn't help but wonder if, had he fallen through the sky, if all the time would have passed him and left him in those years.

He remembered shyly asking the pretty girl to be his friend. And he remembered she shyly accepted. The years flew by and they spent their time side by side. Baptized by her beauty. He was just dreaming, counting the ways he liked her. He was there for a moment, with so many wishes, and asking her shyly to go out with him, and she politely declined.

He went on always being by her side, living the years of life. He was 18 again for a moment and had a rifle shoved into his hands. He experienced sweating like he never imagined and being sent off on a ship. Going to a far land in his prime to be ground into the mud. Cast against himself, boys from far-away lands speaking tongues he had never heard. Too enthusiastically, too naïve they had marched off, rank and file to do duties they had only played at years earlier. He was 19 again, and for a moment, he had experienced pain he could never have imagined. Pain that did not require a wound. He experienced cold, freezing cold that went to the bone. He experienced misery and longing. A longing to be in the awkward years again. Thoughts that belonged half a world away, and wondering thoughts if she was sleeping. And he realized that he had never before had the thought that he may not see tomorrow or home again. He experienced staying up long nights in fear, counting his luck and fear cashing in on his bad luck. Experienced loathing, and longing for home, and questioning what he had sold his soul for. Questioning what he had washed his hands in blood for. Questing what he had left his mom and dad for.

He was 21 again, he experienced the welcome home. He experienced the sudden and deafening silence. He went to classes and stayed in lecture halls full of silent adult boys. He learned the history which he had lived; he learned the history of boys past like him. He experienced the rejoice of meeting her again. And experienced the new pain of seeing her with someone she loved. He experienced the respect he had to give to that happiness which did not belong to him. He experienced seeing stars for what they are.

He was 25 again, and he started his own business and experienced the struggle of being on his own. He experienced the struggles of memories and missing people. He experienced seeing others starting families and going with their lives. He experienced seeing the ghosts from years past. But he also learned to experience music, and hearing the music to be the melody of a beautiful swan with each note struck.

He was 31 again, and he experienced success and more memories. He experienced coming to terms, and that what he had done was not for the folks at home, that no one wishes to die alone. He experienced looking into a child's eyes and seeing his own. That amazing things, beautiful things came from many terrible nights. He remembered the times striving on to live for something greater, for others, for others who could not join him with each moment.

He was 99 again, and the cool breeze brought in another blast of mist from the crashing waves. He felt a weakness in his heart, deep inside, as he sat upon a rock. All of his experiences, his long life, and his longed for loves. There wasn't a drop of regret for him in the entire ocean. He meekly smiled. The weakness in his heart came not from lack of will, for there was no such thing, but from a time of rest. He smiled, and he knew this was a good thing.

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