I ripped through it years ago, fell-plummeted-into its characters, its every detail, its magnificent movement. I tumbled to its end and left myself suddenly stale for new stories.
I forbade myself a return, refused to let it across my screen. I withered at mere memory. I wanted to fall again, elsewhere, without fearing an unrelenting nonsensical end.
I waited.
And today, when my family asked me to watch it with them, I said yes because it didn’t clutch my heart overmuch to remember.
So here I am, mid second episode, mid my lovely unchanged characters, mid world and verse and humor I never left nor even buried, despite my steady efforts.
And it isn’t painful. It’s beautiful, my memory and my present and the thrilled joining of the two.
I guess my heart forgives? I guess some losses do take comfort in the love locked in memory.
