Yesterday, I was taken to the top of this hiking point, where one could look over Cannes one one side and St Raphael & Frejus on another side. It has been the second time in this week I was taken to witness the great touches of Mother Nature. And I wouldn’t be able to be in any of these places, if not for the guy who also saved me from spending a night “home-less” in Grasse. His name is B. As much of a genuine nice guy B is, B is also generous to accompany me and bring me to the places he loves. All of them, so far, have done a great job in reminding me to feel grateful of BEING alive.
Those pictures were taken from an observation tower, which did not look as if it had been in service any recent time but still appealing enough as a spot to any people who are into good views and good moments away from civil lives. I suppose we sort of fell into the group as well. It was a little tricky to finally get on top but nothing was worth more than these. B kept praising me for still wanting to climb onto the top, and not backing down like he would imagine. The truth is, without B, I would never be able to make it.
Just like, I would never be able to see the sky transforming from day time to night time, from the sweepings of yellow lights to the sparkling dots of stars, without B. But B kept praising me, for nothing that I particular did actually. You might tell me B is trying to impress me, sure, I think you might be right. But B will always be a friend and my savior, and my company for future trips like these. I did not use his real name, not because I wanted to make him a special character (even though he is actually, a special stranger that I luckily meet to share such experiences with), but I’d like to call him B. It sounds sort of mysterious and private.
I included B in this post, as he told me something yesterday, while we were staring at the far view of Cannes lit up with lights at night.
The thing about good moments is, you cannot keep them. They will go away. You cannot even put into a bag and bring them home. Sure, you can take pictures and be reminded of, but this moment, this very moment, will pass away.
B put into words, my fear of every days for the last couple of months.
Yesterday, I graduated officially. And I was lying on top of the hill, looking at the sky full of stars (yup, like the title of music). On the left, I heard an echoed music from a party which I assumed the mid summer celebration. On the right, it was the sound of waves bouncing against the rocks, or could be the wind flowing through trees & shaking them. IN that moment, I was happy. I haven’t felt like this for a while. Or no, actually not true. I am happy this much sometimes, but it is so unreal and too overwhelming, I have to always tell myself to calm down and breath. Because as my excitement is spiced up with adrenalin, my fear for those moments to come and crash is unavoidable. I hate it. I cannot stand it. I cannot bear it—the feeling of flying so high, just to fall so deep.
So, at the very least to do is me writing here. Writing, again, is my only way, my only attempt to place the good and bad moments into pockets, put them in different corners of memory inventory; so that one day I have something to look back.
Nothing lasts forever, they say. There will be more coming good moments to experience and so don’t let yourself caught up in the feeling of losing this one good moment, she says.