Temple Bar @ Dublin, a photo by -BeNnO- on Flickr. |
Prompt: Talk about a memory triggered by a particular song.
Whenever I hear “Ride On” by Christy Moore, I’m reminded of the night we met at The Temple Bar. It was your first time in Ireland, and we were both tourists in an anonymous city. As you approached me, I recognized your smile, though you had changed. Heavier now, and taller than I remembered, with lines beginning to appear; you'd become a fully grown man. We were both aging well, I decided, but said nothing.
My glass was filled with gin, yours with red wine. Years slipped away with every drink, until we were stripped back to wild things unable to say no. The dizzy sensation of feeling young again- and free- was intoxicating. The pub was packed so we drew closer to hear one another. Your hand grazed mine, but I didn’t pull away. All the while, traditional musicians in the corner expressed emotions we could not.
I interrupted your story, saying, “This is a good song!” You nodded. Our conversation stopped. Even then, I was lost in the lyrics.
When you ride into the night, without a trace behind,
Run your claw along my gut, one last time.
I turn to face an empty space where you used to lie
And look for the spark that lights the night
through a teardrop in my eye...
The rest of our story is history. That night is forever shrouded in mystery though. Was it a gift, theft, or something in between? A piece of myself has been missing ever since.
Ride on, see you, I could never go with you
No matter how I wanted to.
* A huge thank you to the three women who created Scintilla! Kim, Onyi, and Dominique are more than muses... they are bad ass goddesses!!!
Lovely, Robin. So evocative. I often wonder sometimes whether my biggest regrets are about the things I did or those I didn't. As I get older, I'm more certain it's the latter.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your insightful comment, Patti. This quote by Rasmenia Massoud speaks to me, "The problem with comprehension is, it often comes too late.”
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful. Oh, how the memories haunt our lives. I only hope to keep the beautiful ones.
ReplyDeleteYou know how certain scents bring back memories and when you pull out an old sweater, the reminiscences come rushing back? That's what this post was like for me... I can picture you at the bar, wrapped in the magic of the song and the moment... We can never quite purge the songs of their associations, can we?
ReplyDeleteThanks, Millie. "Haunt" is the perfect word...
ReplyDeleteYes! Scent and sound are powerful reminders of the past. It's so easy to get lost in a moment, especially the magical ones, time and time again...
ReplyDelete