My story 3

Let it go, let it fly away into history...because it cannot be kept anymore.

It was like a pet, sweet and nice at many times, rather annoying at others, and overall rather tiring to keep controlled.

I held on... so tight, so tight. My grip has embedded into my skin, the scars of the bites and scratches remain as grooves and contours on my memory, sewn into my history. It was painful, but when the fun came, the scars were gone, as if washed away by the euphoria of random talk, playful banter and the occasion dumb streaks.

Yet, it is hard to take in that everything is really over. The leash-end is still with me, but where is the collar? Where is the head? Up in the clouds, miles from my eyes, eons from me. Never to return.

Hope inquired: "Perhaps all is not lost, given the time spent, a part, a fraction, a figment would still remain there. When chance allows for its return, things would probably still be fine."

Rationality roared: "FOOL. Time will wear down everything, whatever feeble foundation or scaffold you may have stubbornly built, time will erode it and it shall crumble to dust. Keep to yourself, foolish Hope, and see reality for yourself."

Sorrow spoke: "Please just stop, it's over, it's all over. Nothing can restore it, nothing. Just give up. The heart, she wants it back... so badly... she is pained by my seat there. But what can she do?"

Memory spoke: "At least the records are with me. If there is a need to remember the joyous times, she will be able to. We should take comfort in that."

The silence shall fall... and I must learn to release and move on to things more important.