I am going through my photos in general, just the ones on my own laptop (so many computers), on New Year’s Eve, thinking that it’s an appropriate activity for this evening. What comes out of it is this awareness of being together with P for long enough that we’re aging. (“More wine immediately, please.”) Of course I see those beach/boat/summer/hiking/swimming style of photos and recall my own sense of awkwardness as they were being snapped and the simultaneous voice in my head saying, don’t waste your time on self-consciousness or you’ll regret it later, and now I recognise that now is later and now I’m going: oh my god, I’m beautiful. And that’s nostalgia. Imagine realising that what we yearn for is what we already have.
And then there’s Johnny, my heart.
The summer I was the age M is now I saw a ring on a woman’s hand through an outdoor market wall, hanging with, I don’t know, probably jewelry or painted whatnots. All I saw was her hand, because the walls weren’t really walls, they were open-air hanging racks or some such apparatuses for displaying fantasy-type wares. It was the Avalon Fair on Saltspring Island, circa wouldn’t you like to know. Anyway you should be able to guess by the concrete imagery I am providing. On the hand was this enormous piece of amethyst set in silver, big big silver, the sort of thing I was into at the time, so I grasped the hand and pulled it toward me to get a closer look. This woman, being the sort of person who would frequent these places, came around the jewelry or painted whatnots or whatever it was there smiling at me. I told her I wanted the ring. She said that, then, one day it would be mine, and in fact she said, “Nothing is lost in the universe.” But would I remember it if I saw it again? Tastes change. That puts a spin on the whole “Eventually, or in the future” thing. Maybe never is just a change of mind.