Untitled # 42 ( or wanting the past)

 

He gripped the door knob and he felt the beads of sweat cover the cold brass. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, he shouldn’t be here, but for some reason he was there.

Her voice, filled with a sense of urgency, a longing, a passion he had wished for, yet had never heard before. He drew away from the entrance to collect himself. Taking a long breathe of the cold night air, he felt his mind clear from the fog of past intentions. Logic began to peek out, asking all the right questions. 

What about the one that’s waiting for you , what about the life you have already built? What of the past you had finally put behind you, and the future that lays before you, with out her? 

He glanced down at his finger, the ring of gold now shining with a brightness he could barely stand. He was just wanted to close his eyes, to forget the past 5 years, just for one night, one chance to live a dream he let go of so long ago. A dream that once shattered brought him back to this world he now had accepted as all there was. Yet it seemed there in that night all that didn’t matter, with a simple phone call he had been thrown back into the time when she was his everything, that place were nothing and no one else mattered. He put his hand in his pocket and when he pulled it out, only an indention of what used to be remained. He turned and pulled the handle and set fire to the present to resurrect a vision from the past.