I looked for us in Camden Town
I drove through Camden Town last night. I looked for us at that side wooden table on the terrace at Lock 17. Do you remember? We were those kids seized by our illicit love affair…aroused by the novelty of our feelings, by the suddenness of our actions. I stopped to look and listen. Were those our interlocking fingers weaving through whispers and lusty looks over the cocktail glass brims? We were consumed by that devouring complicity…duplicity…
That was 10 years ago…two dreamers immersed in feelings, self-absorbed, oblivious to anything other than that sweet dream of theirs. We were those innocent victims of a love which felt eternal. We were the youngsters we half smile at today, while we pass them hurriedly in the street…We say to ourselves we’re too busy for romance. In reality, we’re too embarrassed to look at them. The gripping fear of having to acknowledge our failure stops us in our tracks.
I looked for us at Camden Lock. We were not there…The ghosts of our laughter kept ringing in my ears. They haunted me for many hours after. We’ve grown up. Forgot to laugh and hold hands. Forgot how love whispers sound on trembling lovers’ lips. When did we stop feeling our way through life? When did we start thinking our downfall?