They Come At Night

a reflection

from JoeUser Forums
They come at night.

20 years later and still they come. Memories or ghosts? I'm not quite sure. Friends long departed, places long deceased. They come and I go, and wander, and want. I know I don't belong, each moment makes that more acute. This is just a dream, I say, incredibly without breaking the spell. Dream or nightmare, I'm not sure.

They remain the same, untouched by time. I shrivel and expand, like a corpse in the sun. Gaseous decay bloats out, leather and dust shrivel in.

I try to play but they'll have none of me. They know there is something wrong. I'm not right. I'm not one of them anymore. Was I ever? Memories decay like skin.

Memory or ghost? I'm not quite sure. Dream or nightmare, I'm not sure. Did I say that? Or did they?

I watch and I wish. Wish -- that I could turn back time -- wish that I could join them -- wish that if only for once I could make up for past foolishness -- Dear God, please! Please just let me do it again! I know now! I know! I...

...listen to heavens that are as quiet as this room.

I go to them at night. Trying to appease my soul, make it all right. I wander. Shade from the past? Shade from the future? They'll have none of me. My past rejects me, vomits me a distasteful present.

My dear friends! My dear, dear friends! If only... If only...

They come at night. And I go. And I cry.
1,139 views 2 replies
Reply #1 from JoeUser Forums Top
I'm sorry I missed this when you first posted it. It is wonderful writing. Regret is a terrible thing, isn't it? I try to watch for your posts, you are very intelligent and talented.
Reply #2 from JoeUser Forums Top
Thank you for those kind words, WiseFawn. (Someday I'll get around to answering the messages on my site and say that there too. )

I haven't been posting much lately, so it's easy to miss.

Regret is a terrible thing, isn't it?


Yes it is. I envy those who can honestly say they have no regrets. I've now gone far enough down this track that I not only recognize that I messed up big, but when, where, and how. I've spent the last couple months wondering where that leaves me and what to do now.

I'm hoping I'll eventually pull it together somehow. There's this little part of my brain, though, that always wants to try to repair things, try to "make things right." These past few months have shown me all too clearly there are some things that just can't be repaired or regained. Some things get lost or broken forever.

Some lessons are better left unlearned.
Siege of Centauri