Ana, Summer 1973
It's been a year since I left this temporary apartment I once shared with a temporary roommate, in a temporary city while I took a temporary detour in life. A year since I left everything behind in search of the elusive answers I sought.
I still seek them. My deviation from reality has not given me the sudden clarity I hoped I would gain. Reality has waited for me all along, right here in this room along with the few boxes that contain my life. Reality slaps me in the face hard when I stop long enough to actually look at the cluster of cardboard and strewn clothing I left behind in the corner of the dimly lit room.
I approach the mess slowly, cautiously, certain that I am hallucinating.
Drugs have never been my thing—not even once—but suddenly I feel high, and not at all in control of my shaking body. My hand trembles as I pinch the photograph between my fingers, and hold it up in the light. The frayed edges and thin scratches are not familiar to me, but the image of the moment frozen in time is one I know very well.
My leaden feet shuffle across the floor as I scramble to find my purse where I tossed it on the narrow bed. My hands dive in, withdrawing my wallet, loose cash, spare change, two tubes of lip gloss . . . everything but the object I'm looking for. I upend the bag in desperation, and dump the remaining contents onto the bed. Hidden under a package of tissues is the photograph I'm searching for. The one I never go anywhere without, but never look at.
I hold the two photographs up side by side, and stare in disbelief at their matching images. One still perfectly crisp and vibrant; the other worn and faded. Both printed on the same day, and split between the young couple in the image.
Their smiles—our smiles—portray the happiness of that day, and the oblivion of what was to come. Looking at us then, and feeling the surge of emotions that comes with seeing our joy, I can't help but do what I have spent the past three years purposefully avoiding.
I let my mind wander back to when it allstarted.
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