I lost it again—the moment I meant to capture. It slipped through my fingers just as I reached for it. I tried to focus, but my eyes were closed. In the blink of an eye, like a whisper, everything shifted. The light changed, someone sneezed, the earth rotated a fraction—and then, just like that, it was gone.

I thought I could write about it, wrap it in language and keep it somehow. But none of the words I knew came close to describing how it looked, how it felt, how it smelled, tasted. I tried to invent new ones, but I’ve never been good at creating from scratch. I felt the surge of language, racing to my fingertips, poised to commit a crime of memory—to record a moment that might never have wanted to be remembered.

But the words stopped short. No matter how I arranged them, they didn’t quite fit. They spoke for my idea of myself, not for who I truly was in that instant.

I considered speaking it aloud, trying to work through the clumsy metaphors, smooth the wrinkles. But all those beautiful scripts that played in my mind fell apart on my tongue. They didn’t help me recount or rehearse. Instead, they betrayed me, revealing how often I overthink what ought to come naturally.

The feelings, though—they came easily. Too easily. Sometimes they overwhelmed me with their kaleidoscope of love, with the vibrancy of their existence, with the aching weight of their despair. And that pain became mine, indelibly.

Yet when I tried to hold onto those emotions, they became delicate spider webs—snapping back to the edges, clinging to something solid, never again forming their perfect, intricate patterns. I searched for them, and they vanished. When I stopped looking, they returned, brushing against my skin like a breath of wind.

But to collect them, to admire and contain them, to hide or dissect them—that only destroyed their essence. It undid what made them real.

So I’m left alone again. Maybe better, maybe worse for having met them. I meant to capture those moments, and I keep trying. But I never truly can—which only deepens my need to do so. ❤️

©️ Beatriz Esmer