the tug

hey, so who is that in the picture?

i have this photo on my desk at work. it's strange how i've had it on my desk for the past two years but it wasn't until today that people began asking me about it. i'm guessing that it was particularly noticeable today because i moved my desk and things were no longer being blurred in familiarity. this is how i came to repeatedly tell my story about the little girl i met at the himalayan horse festival.

each time that i'd tell the story, new memories began to emerge, as if the story was the one tug that i needed to uncover a series of other memories that’d been buried with time. these sweet recollections left me strangely vulnerable for a moment. i felt a deep ache, as if i had just learned that a part of me had been asleep or was dead for some time.

but memories are of the past and as sweet as memory lanes can be, i'm done sulking in them. now, my todays will be lived fully.