Nostalgia’s web

I still go out to the barn. It smells of wood rot… and memories, the kind that tie you up like spider's thread and hold you hostage in a cocoon waiting for your vitality to be drained by the realization that those days are gone and will never come again.

I can’t help but return to it like hands to a scab or a particularly itchy bug bite. The doors had rotted off their hinges long ago leaving the barn entrance like a dark gaping maw, but these days I felt all too ready to be swallowed by that maw never re-emerging from the darkness.

The doors were gone but the ghosts of the past showed no signs of leaving. I could see them sometimes playing out various scenes: a kiss shared, rage released, tears shed, a veritable smorgasbord of emotions playing out in front of me like a super 8 film.

I saw myself among them memories of a younger me. Like the first time I got rejected by a girl even without this phantom pantomime to remind me I’d never forget. I can’t even forget her name. She'd introduce herself to people Charlotte ‘Charlotte like the spider’ she’d say with a grin on her face she loved that story. We grew up together and when we got older she was able to better articulate the reason why she loved it she would say…

“ It's a beautiful story of true unconditional compassion and love between a diverse and unlikely pair of friends, and reflects how small actions can have far reaching impacts. The acts of a single arguably insignificant spider prolonged a pig's life.”

She could wax philosophical about it for an impressive amount of time, and was liable to talk about it to anyone who’d listen. Ironically with all her talk of unconditional love she didn’t love me.We’d spent over a decade playing around that barn so when I decided to confess there I thought the significance of that place wouldn’t be lost on a poetic soul like her.

We were freshly eighteen and she was eager to see the world. We Were sitting in the hayloft dreaming of a life outside talking about plans and what we’d do given half the chance. She had launched into one of her monologues and I was just smiling, unable to look away as the light formed a halo around her during her animated speech.

“I’m going to be a lawyer, but not one of those soulless money grabbing ones that protects the garbage of this world!”

“I love you.”

I was just as shocked as she was as her words ground to a halt like a train on the verge of derailing. We stared at each other, her hands frozen mid gesture. She looked like a marionette controlled by a puppeteer with stage fright. Before I could vacuum the word back into my mouth she replied.

“I love someone else.”

The concept of her even knowing someone else was foreign to me. The idea that she had a life outside this space separate from me was inconceivable. I felt waves of emotion in an instant irrational anger, crippling fear, a deep and lonely sadness. I manage to speak again trying to sound nonchalant but my words come out in a hoarse croak.

“What’s their name?”

“Templeton.”

I had to suppress a bit of grim amusement at this revelation. I was incredulous and an absolutely absurd image of a spider and a rat locked in an embrace nearly killed me.

“Like the rat?” I managed to inquire without cracking.

“Like the rat.” She agreed.

She didn’t leave immediately and we sat in excruciating silence while I tried to figure out why. Coming up with favorable scenarios for myself. Until she let out a quiet sigh and jumped several feet down to the barn floor, and sprained her ankle. That's when I realized I had inadvertently been blocking the ladder.

I smiled and laughed about it now as I sat on the second floor of the old family home looking out the window at the barn in its death throes. The doorbell rang, breaking the thread of memories as I went down to answer it.

“Hi, my name is Charlotte. I'm a lawyer. I saw you were selling this house and I was wondering if…”

“Like the spider?” I interrupted as her words ground to a halt like a train on the verge of derailing, and she froze like a marionette controlled by a puppeteer with stage fright

I was caught in nostalgia’s web.