I went to look for our lock today.

You would deny it - provided that I'd ever get the chance to tell you - that it was ours. You'd rather deny its existence outright than to admit that it had anything to do with me.

(it wasn't there).

I had the dimmest memories of when and where  you - we - could have placed it (trying to ignore the why), but either it had been removed (you removed it?) or it just eluded me (did it elude you as well?)

Perhaps it was not even the lock I was searching for, or perhaps my eyes were too busy trying not to see. If I'd found that thing, I would have removed it. (I guess).

(perhaps you have really removed it).

If that's true, you're being unfair. The lock wasn't even ours... perhaps someone guessed the same thing, and stole it. Perhaps I wasn't attentive enough. Perhaps I just didn't have eyes for it. Perhaps it was fate (or your goddamn will) who decided I should never find it again.

But what could I have done? Break it? Piss on it, like a dog? Melt it? Toss it into the river? I have no more power over that lock than I do over you.

(Perhaps, just a bit).

-

Now, for your information, I'm sitting in the park where we used to talk about the lock, and everything it meant. (Did it mean anything?)

-

(no, I did not find it, I found memories instead, and that's too bad, because you can't fucking burn memories).

That lock is like a mythic creature to me now. I know it exists, I believe it exists, but no one else ever saw it. No one, but you.

-

I bet it wasn't even a special lock. I'm sure it was ugly. My mind is just colouring the picture - perhaps it's even good that I never found it, lest I had that sensation you feel when you revisit the places where you'd spent your childhood and suddenly, they all seem so small and poorly.

-

I went to look for our lock today. I'm disappointed.

I didn't quite expect to really find it, but I did expect to find something.

This void is so full: it's not to my liking.