Wandering In The Dark

I consider it likely against my best interests to wonder on

And often times, I make a concerted effort to keep it far from the front of my mind

But none of us has much control over which way our minds might wander

And when the night is long

And my thoughts are left to converse amongst themselves,

Recurrently you come to mind

And hold my attention hostage even from however far away

There are times when I'll resist it

Force you from my mind and make myself think of other things

Any arbitrary things, just to stop myself from wasting even one more fraction of a second in contemplation

But other times I'll let the memories and all the questions they bring with them run their course

There is joy in it, sure

Remembrance of a treasured time

When there was good in all things

And all things were good

A time of laughter and freshness

Of beginnings and smiles

Of late nights

Long walks

Great talks

And happiness beyond measure

The time of fireflies and shooting stars

The summer of dreams come true (or so it [then] seemed)

Yes it brings me great elation to revisit those times

But inevitably

What it leads to

What it concluded in and what could’ve been guessed from the start,

Is the memories of the next chapter

In which the joy had vanished

And left in its void was a pathetic mixture of sorrow and pity

Of confusion and longing

Of failure without fault

And a convoluted muddling of the wishes for that which never truly was

And that which, now, almost certainly can not be

An intense bitterness that even in all its overpowering enormity

Can't drown out the sweet

How long will I be condemned to regret entirely what all happened

Yet revel in it all the more

To hold on to a fools hope that history could repeat

Only this time with a better understanding of the stakes

And, resultingly, a different outcome

Deep down I know it not to be possible

Such a thing happens not even once in a blue moon

But rather an indigo sun

So rare that few of us have yet seen it once

And none twice

No, the past is in stone now

Cold, and without voice or life

And the future

Undoubtedly

Will bear no resemblance to that not so long ago time

We walked between the trees in the dark

Guided only by distant astrological bodies

And you

Entirely unexpectedly

Grabbed my hand into yours

And so doing

Sealed my fate