I remember it like it was yesterday; in a way it was really. So long ago and yet so vivid in my memory… As I look around at this empty park, next to my old elementary school, the memories come flooding back to me. Memories of friends, games I used to play… Girls I used to like… You’ll excuse me if I let out a small chuckle, I hope; it really was a naïve time, filled with laughter, what I thought was love, and so many other things that occupy the minds of young children. I wonder how I could have been so oblivious to the contours of the world back then.
Sometimes I wish that I could have that back; that I could relive those innocent, golden years. I can’t though. We all have to move on sometime, and my time was a long time ago. That’s why I come here every so often, and why I just sit here, imagining what life used to be. I just sit here, reminiscing, enjoying some of the only happy times that I’ve ever had in my life.
As I sit here, under the cloudy sky, all of the memories come rushing back to me like ghosts of the past. I look at the swing set and I remember sitting there, my father pushing me back and forth, and me giggling like a child. How such a simplistic, repetitive motion could have brought so much joy, I still don’t know. Actually, come to think of it, I miss my father sometimes.
After I finally graduated from school, I moved as far away from home as possible. I didn’t want to live in my small little shanty town anymore. I didn’t want to be isolated from any chance of success; I wanted to make it big. That’s why I left and never looked back. I haven’t talked to my family since then, not since I left. Although it’s not like I was ever particularly close with them. Sometimes I wish that I had gotten to know them better. Just another thing to add to my list of missed opportunities I suppose…
Sometimes when I come here, I’ll come past a particular memory and turn my head as if to talk to some imaginary figure. It’s a sort of reflex, a reaction to the past if you will. It’s a sort of attempt to preserve what little I have left of my old life. It comes on suddenly and without explanation, “Ha… Hey Snips, do you remember that time that we-”
Snips isn’t there though, at least, not anymore. I lost contact with him a long time ago. He was one of those military boys; you know, headstrong, righteous, obedient, willing to serve his country and all that. He was a good man, if a bit dim. I’m not even sure if he is alive anymore, though I still pray every night that he is. There are a lot of times like that these days; times that I’ll just recall some random event, time, place, or friend. I’ll smile a small, sad smile of remembrance, and a single tear will roll down my face.
The school itself closed down a few years ago, although I don’t know why. It’s kind of a shame really, as this school was where my journey first started, and where it will probably end. I find it more than a little ironic that this is the way things have turned out in the end. I would have done so many things differently if I had known what I would lose in the long run… friends, family, innocence…
I’m sorry if I’m repeating myself, and I hope you’ll forgive the rambling of a tired, old gelding. You see, the world is a harsh place, and it changes you if you aren’t prepared… I wasn’t prepared at all, and that’s why I am where I am now. That’s why I lost everything, though I suppose that everything is destined to be lost some time or another anyway. That’s one of the things that I’ve learned that I’ve learned in the real world.
Everything breaks down eventually, and nothing lasts forever. You can try as hard as you want to change that, but it’s one of those inevitable facts of life, just like death and taxes. It’s kind of funny once you think about it, isn’t it? It’s funny how ponies can try so hard to keep some sense of order and familiarity in their life, when it can be so easily taken away from them. It’s so funny how we forget the things that are most important to us until we’ve lost them for good, with no chance of ever getting them back.
So funny, how we can ignore things that were right in front of our face for years, not realizing what we were taking for granted until that thing that we had been so willing to ignore has disappeared. That’s the moment when we remember. That’s the moment when we think back and say, “I wish I had stayed in contact with that pony,” or “I remember when I used to play four-square with my friends at recess; I wish that I could do that again…” By then it’s already too late to do anything. All we can do then is look back and remember what we’ve lost.
That’s something I’ve come to realize through all of the struggles and trials that I’ve had to go through. Memories are a sort of gateway to the past, a way to hold on to the most important moments in our life, in place of the tangible things that we so long for. In a sense, they are a placeholder that fills a space in our mind, until we are able to reacquire what we are looking for. For most of us though, that moment never comes.
Even memories aren’t permanent though. There are some days that I forget where I came from, and the friends that I used to have. There are some days where I wake up, tears in my eyes, and just can’t seem to remember what I was crying over. Everyone has days like those, even though you may have lived your life to the best of your abilities. Everyone experiences that sense of loss and helplessness at one point or another.
The thing about ponies though, is that we dwell in the past. The past is just as much our domain as the present and the future, and often is a greater part. We are creatures that are oriented to the past. While we are stuck reliving what once was, the world moves on. Ponies die, climates change, relationships are formed and broken and the cycle of loss continues to grow every day.
I remember a time long ago, when I would have rejected the very thought of such a concept. A time that I wish I could go back to, when things were much simpler, and my responsibilities consisted of such things as eating breakfast and making the bed. I sometimes wonder what happened to those days. How did they all pass me by so fast? How did I never notice all of the things that I was fortunate enough to have back then?
Once again, I’ll chalk it up to equine nature taking effect. As foals, we are so eager to grow and enjoy the freedom and feeling of importance that we get when we reach adult life. As adults, we wish for nothing more than the innocence and beauty of our younger days. It’s a very interesting paradox if you ask me. We want both sides, but we can find no way to compromise. We spend our whole lives, looking for something that we will never be able to reach, no matter how hard we try.
These are all of the sentiments that I’ve grown to collect over my short time on this earth. I haven’t even mentioned my mother yet have I? She really was a great mare, and she always gave me good advice. She taught me to give back to world, and to do my best to make others smile… I’ve tried my best to do what she taught me, even though we might not have always gotten along well with one another.
That’s another thing that confuses me. We are taught and learn so much during our childhood years, but it is not until many years later that we actually learn the meaning behind what we learned so long ago. It’s a sort of intriguing phenomenon that we seem to have developed at some point or another over time…
I suppose I should apologize for all of this ranting that you’ve had to endure this whole time. I just couldn’t help myself, though I suppose now that you see how the world shaped me and the gelding that I have become. I suppose now, you see why I came back here, to this school. I too crave the warm reassurance that memories and the past bring. I see the pattern, though I cannot break it myself.
That is why I come here sometimes; to remind myself of what I once had, but have now lost. I come back to a place that was special for me and an anchor for my life. I think that I’m the only one that still visits this old place. The others all forgot about it when it was shut down, so I guess in a way me and the school are similar. We’ve been forgotten by the world, in its ever turning continuous expanse.
That is why I come here sometimes; to remind myself of what I once had, but have now lost. I come back to a place that was special for me and an anchor for my life. I think that I’m the only one that still visits this old place. The others all forgot about it when it was shut down, so I guess in a way me and the school are similar. We’ve been forgotten by the world, in its ever turning continuous expanse. We’ve both lost everything… We’ve lost our worlds.
That’s why I’m sitting here, with this revolver in my hoof. I’ve lost everything that ever mattered to me and made so many mistakes in my life…All I have left are memories of a time long past… A time that I wish I could have again. That’s all that our entire lives amount to really, memories of things we wish we had done and hadn’t done, of things that we miss in the very end. I have no quarrels with this though. It’s just the way the world works after all.
Part of why I find it so easy to put the barrel to my head, is the fact that I know no one will miss me when I’m gone. Memories will fade, and the world will move one without me. I will become a shadow and be one with the earth again as I once was. Only then will I truly be important to this great, big, spinning chunk of rock that we all live on. My death will be remembered for a short time… but for how long? A week? A month? A year?
You see… The thing about the universe is that it is indifferent. The world and the people around us keep moving on, eventually moving on and forgetting us. And why shouldn’t they? Everything fades away eventually... Even the universe itself will not last forever…
So that’s it I suppose. That is the end that I have written for my story, and you’ve seen it. You know my life, and you know my story now… But in time, you, like all others, will forget. You will have at the back of your mind a faint memory of a stallion. You won’t remember his name. You won’t even remember how old he is. You won’t even remember his face. All you will remember is a faint shadow in the back of your mind, hinting that something that once was no longer is.
And so there is nothing left to say. You’ve come to the end, the crescendo, the final realization of this exposition. You’ve seen the truth, told from my mouth, and you have seen everything that life will inflict upon you. So go now. Go home, and live your life. There is nothing left to say anymore… Now… Now I must finish the deed, and finally move on.
