"Remember all these things we wanted, Now all our memories, they're haunted"

With emotions coursing through me and an anxiety threatening to overwhelm my being, I am suddenly transported back nearly twenty-five years, reliving decisions I made as an immature, frustrated, confused, and doubtful young-and-dumb twenty-something. Piecing together mindsets and memories, I am caught rehashing chains of events and why such moments occurred. While specific instances are blurred, the sentiments are fresh. I neither defend nor deny my actions, just remembering the reasons I felt such strong sensations. The havoc takes a turn when the rationalization is simplified to a single word, one I never previously considered. Yes, I had considered other ideas, most namely “mindfuck,” to define this era, but the one he offered never occurred to me. It hadn’t been discussed. In the plentiful opportunities for conversation, it wasn’t said. Instead, the emotions were always at the forefront of my mind, as we sometimes considered possibilities and hopefulness, other times anger and doubt.

Yet, in this moment, two decades later, he explains his view like teaching math to an elementary school student. A very simple concept with a logical explanation: one plus one equals two. He offers a linear timeline with a distinct beginning and end. Whereas my perception had been that of explaining the nuisances of the English language to a foreign speaker: their, they’re, and there have three different meanings; read and red are sometimes pronounced the same way and other times not; and the syllables in Arkansas and Kansas are enunciated at different times, therefore Ar-Kan-Saw sounds nothing like Kan-zes.

Why this conversation came up so long after the fact and had to be rehashed, I don’t know. Why I had been so affected by it, I don’t have the answer to that either. Maybe, if I’m terribly honest with myself, it’s because it was a path that could have been or would absolutely never be. For too many years, I carried tremendous guilt for the end of our relationship and the terrible way I acted. I justified his awfulness to me, feeling I deserved it. But to hear his casual and clinical explanation is too much. It's as if accountability and responsibility for our demise didn't fall squarely on my shoulders. Holy brutal awakening.

In the midst of the challenging dialogue, a new memory comes forward. It’s a pivotal decision that jumpstarted my career and drastically changed my trajectory. For years, I had wondered the catalyst to that unique choice and suddenly I have an incredibly tangible explanation with several adamant convictions.

I smile. Some good came from this period. While my beginning and end aren’t as specific, the adventure that followed was worthwhile, making me understand the quote “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

It's not long after reaching the end of our talk that I receive a text from a long-ago friend from the new beginning who recently returned to my universe. He texts me a silly picture with an even more random message. I laugh. Oh, the timing.