A numbing absence

Photo fragments of memories flicker through my mind.

In no particular order, they flash not only a series of images and colours, but feelings, sounds and scents.

The rosy blush of his cheeks, the well-meaning look in his eyes, the gentle timbre of his voice, the warmth of his lips and the soft prickles of stubble which brushed my cheek feel so profoundly vivid, despite the years that distance myself from such a reality.

He made me feel more than I’d ever known and yet I yearned for even more.

The brief moments we’ve had together have not come close to satisfying the mind, body or the spirit. But already the sand is flowing freely, outside of my control, and soon time will stand still.

Why eye me off with such suggestion only to snatch it away, disappearing without a trace of regret or sorrow?

I fear my affection has frightened him away but I’d be a liar to profess his absence has seared an open wound, for his presence ever lingers.

I have never before known an emotion so intense it’s unfathomable.

That elation, which took hold of my entire being upon first meeting him, I had long thought was a sensation of the past. But it often returns serendipitously, with an unwelcome chill to the bone.

And while I may well mask it by day, of a night it can be overwhelming.

Every time I see him smile, I breathe in those cherished seconds trying to cast aside the looming threat of what could quite easily amount to our last encounter.

With countless unknowns clogging the corners of my mind, without fail and no matter how life has changed either one of us, a numbing shiver is sent shooting down every nerve as I am forced to consciously remind myself how to breathe.

Every time.

I know there must be some meaning, some significance underlying such a potent sentiment, but I fear too much and as a result experience too little.

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About Alana Mitchelson

Alana Mitchelson is a journalist based in Melbourne, Australia. Follow her on Twitter at @AlanaMitchelson.

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