Boston, Massachusetts

So many corridors I’ve traversed, looking for something I’ll never find. No matter where I go, all I see are shadows. History repeating itself.

I used to spend lunch in this hallway at the Monitor sometimes, tucked away on a corner bench, listening to the flowing water of a nearby fountain as I tapped messages into my BlackBerry. It seemed like part of another world, a place so far removed from reality that I could lose myself. Find myself. And for those few hours, nothing else mattered.

I wonder now if I will ever be that free, or that happy, again. But there are memories. And there are photographs. And every once in a while, there are both, co-mingled in a bittersweet pang of acceptance. Things are what they are. Always were. I was just too blinded by the light at the end of the tunnel to see it.

Music: Haunted by Poe (lyrics)