Melancholy has always strongly coloured my senses. Did, I should say. It does that less now. I used to fall in love too. A few times a year. As if a force in me continuously cast anchors to the past. Anchors of friendship. It was beautiful.
June 6th. Ten years ago, a group of about 200 adolescents received the proof that we successfully finished a peculiar highschool. All I see at this instant are familiar faces smiling back at me from unconcerned times. As soon as I interact with either one of them, I feel that we will never have enough time to catch up. Would that even be possible? Though I’m happy to see everyone again, I feel a loss. As if ten years have disappeared of a life that we will now pick up again. Before we know it, we are dancing. I want to fall in love like I used to, but there’s no time. It makes me cynical. I want to go. Back in the car, I miss them. It was a dream.
June 8th. Five years ago, I moved to Peru for a study on coastal ecosystems. I met Roger. Today, he lets me know that he’ll reach the central station at three. He gets out of the train with two huge backpacks. I laugh. So we meet again. Back then I knew that I’d one day have the chance to introduce him to the Belgian beers, and that’s what I do. We bike, walk and exchange. Past, present and future pass, and neither of us is entirely sure what to make of it. I feel the same space as back then, the same care as back then, and yet here we are, together in Amsterdam, lost in our dreams as we were. Five days fly by and he’s gone. Once again, I miss him.
The anchors are still there. For a very short time, the water was clear enough to see. But the ongoing daily life will trouble it again. All there is to do, is to accept that we are orphans of the past.
Thank you all for what we’ve shared so far.