There’s a conversation I know of, one that I cherish. I lived it, experienced it in a way that that my entire life participated in it.
It was a while ago. I have an opportunity to reconstruct it. I am there and so are you. I live it up. I try and make the magic that you and I experienced before. I choose the same venue, I try to be myself (which becomes my undoing) and I push to recreate the magic of what we once experienced.
Since that day when we experienced magic; things have changed. You have; I have. And the way we interact with our environmental variables has changed. There is no way to recreate the magic that we once experienced. That is the lore of scripted romantic movies. That is why movies make sense – we watch them over and over again – because they are a time machine of sorts – they operate without variables. The constant of the script allows us our illusions.
But your life and mine – it’s not that simple – I spoke with you – and I had no idea what I said. The time of the day, your mood and mine, what has transpired since we last met, that small angle of how you sit and therefore how I see you – it changed. The differential made all the difference. And suddenly we have nothing to say. All our previous adventures are only the markers of what made sense, then. Our today is an unfortunate clean slate where we are reluctant to scribble what we feel.
Time is the only currency between us; once in abundance – now scarce. The world has changed and I am now learning not to believe in magic.