SEASHORE MEMORIES

SEASHORE MEMORIES

      A little seahorse fell in love one day with a starfish.
        The starfish could not swim as fast as he did, therefore she was just watching him with her tender eyes, as he was always wandering around playing among the chorals. He was restlessly wandering all the time, while the stable and faithful starfish had learned to love him and to wait for him. The seahorse was always turning back to her, giving her the brightness of the sun, enclosed in the shells’ pearls.
        But his restless nature was always driving him to unknown ways, under the tender eyes of his loving and patient starfish. He was always going farther, coming back more and more seldom, till one day when he did not come back at all. Perhaps the mermaids had atrracted him with their cheating call and they had locked him up for good in their kingdom. Or perhaps he had fallen in love with another creature of the sea and had forgotten her.
        The story does not mention whether he has ever returned or at least whether the starfish has ever found out what had happened to him. The only known thing is that she has remained alone and sad, burdened by all the ungiven love, a love as vast as the ocean he had lost himself in. And she was melting away for missing him, wondering if, wherever he might have been, there was anyone to tell him, every evening, “good night”.

I may have dreamed about this story or I may have lived it for real some time, in another dimension. I only know that I carry it in my blood and I remember it whenever I think I have no place on earth that would be only mine.

When you were gone, you didn’t want to leave me at least that spot of wild beach, the last and dearest memory I had asked from you. Now, my soul that once was brought to life by a white swan that came to inhabit it, can find no rest anywhere. It was left again empty and restless, since the driven away swan flew far away to sing her last song on the shore of the lake where she was born, from the love’s warmth, one cold winter day.

I have gathered together the love treasures from all those memories that you did not want anymore, when you decided to forget everything. If I could, I would take them one day to that beach, to our corner of heaven. I know that, when I would sit there watching the sea, the hand I would lean myself on, would find a dry starfish buried in the sand. I known that there is where the starfish is, the starfish from my nameless story. She was killed by the heat of the sun and by longing and now lays buried somewhere on that beach that you did not want to give me.

Farewell, seahorse. I loved you so much.

The memories have been left there, behind and inside me at the same time, because inside me is where I carry that place like a round heaven, missing only a little as to be perfect. A circle that was never closed, a circle from which something is missing, as a wound that must be healed in order for the memories to flow again and again on the same round path of the memory and heart.

And because very little was missing for the round shape to be perfect, I will fill up the circle’s wound with a small box in which a little sea horse sleeps forever, cuddled in a handful of sand from the heaven’s beach.

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