(no subject)
I thought I was done for the day, enough for today. I guess I was wrong.
It has been months since I last thought about Noah Grey, and I don't know why but today I thought about him again, what an amazing photographer he was and how he took his page down and I will never again see the amazing life he captured, all over the world, for me to see though his eyes. I don't know why, but I wrote the old web address I had for him and hit enter. And today, of all days, it loaded again.
Amongst a few of his pictures, there was this other link, Noah's Ark. I clicked on it. Nine Ghosts, he calls it. I wonder why nine.
One line was meant for me, and for me alone, or at least that's how it felt.
You stayed with him as long as you did, and tried as hard as you did, because sometimes he was still the boy you fell in love with. Every once in a while, there was still something of that gentle laughing boy in his eyes, a certain turn in his voice to let you know he was still in there somewhere.
Sometimes when he laughed, it was so easy to forget that he was ever angry.
How right, how exact. How can I read that and not feel it touch me, somewhere deep in my core, where no one has ever seen into, but where it was once whole and now it's cracked. I can't. It's... it's a part of me now, the feeling that he gets it, even if it's for a different reason, a different pain that's quite the same.
I wish I could have those words tattooed in my skin, for it to be visible the way they have been carved into me. I wish I could unsee them, unread them, unknow them.
I'm feeling melodramatic. Don't mind me.
It has been months since I last thought about Noah Grey, and I don't know why but today I thought about him again, what an amazing photographer he was and how he took his page down and I will never again see the amazing life he captured, all over the world, for me to see though his eyes. I don't know why, but I wrote the old web address I had for him and hit enter. And today, of all days, it loaded again.
Amongst a few of his pictures, there was this other link, Noah's Ark. I clicked on it. Nine Ghosts, he calls it. I wonder why nine.
One line was meant for me, and for me alone, or at least that's how it felt.
You stayed with him as long as you did, and tried as hard as you did, because sometimes he was still the boy you fell in love with. Every once in a while, there was still something of that gentle laughing boy in his eyes, a certain turn in his voice to let you know he was still in there somewhere.
Sometimes when he laughed, it was so easy to forget that he was ever angry.
How right, how exact. How can I read that and not feel it touch me, somewhere deep in my core, where no one has ever seen into, but where it was once whole and now it's cracked. I can't. It's... it's a part of me now, the feeling that he gets it, even if it's for a different reason, a different pain that's quite the same.
I wish I could have those words tattooed in my skin, for it to be visible the way they have been carved into me. I wish I could unsee them, unread them, unknow them.
I'm feeling melodramatic. Don't mind me.