AN: A while ago I came across a theory from Spirited Away, and since I'm obsessed with it, I decided to give it a chance. So, the person said that Chihiro basically forgets all about the spirit world after leaving it. Remember how Haku told her not to look back and how he couldn't continue on? So, at first I thought it was bullshit, but I decided - because I'm too curious for my own good - to rewatch the movie. And you know, it's not that bad, this theory. At the end, when Chihiro looks back, it's like she's looking at something in the distance, trying desperately to remember, knowing that there is something to remember, but not being able to do so. I liked that idea, of her forgetting. I immediately thought of Zeniba's quote. So yeah, maybe she did forget. And It would be possibly, imagine if everyone who stepped into the spirit world remembered? CHAOS! Maybe that's their defense; after you enter the spirit world and leave, you will forget everything about it, simply to keep the spirit world safe. Okay, so in this short one shot she forgot. Kinda.
love
isn't something
that we invented. it's
observable. powerful. love
is the one thing that
we're capable of
perceiving
that
transcends dimensions
of time and space. maybe
we should trust that,
even if we can't
understand
it.
- Brand, Interstellar.
.
.
He is here again.
He's always there, always.
Well, not really here. In my mind, I mean. I don't know who he is. I think I made him up along the way, or maybe I once saw his face among a crowd and unconsciously remembered it. That why, whenever I get to chance, I draw his face.
I've never met the boy I'm obsessed with drawing, though.
I draw the curve of his mouth, having drawn him so many time I could do it with my eyes closed, then the sharpness of his eyes, the green of his irises.
The first time I drew him, I was eleven years old and I was at the park near our new home. It reminded me at the time of the park near our old home, the one that replaced the river. I was eleven and lonely, so I started drawing in my ancient notebook. My drawing of him was choppy at first, as if I was copying the drawing from a blurred picture, but as time passed I got better at it, better at refining his characteristics, better at drawing his hair properly and his eyes - oh his eyes. They're the hardest.
They're so sharp, but kind and every time I manage to draw one eye perfectly, I screw up the other. The eyes, I have to work on them still.
I've been drawing him for seven years now, and instead of forgetting, I remember him more clearly every time I draw him.
It's been lonely in the suburbs. Nothing ever happens here, but when I draw him, it's almost like I'm away from this world. As if I'm in my own fantasy world, so very far away from the real one. I can be happy there, really happy.
Every time I finish the drawing though, I go back to this world. In the end, nothing changes.
But it's worth it; those five minutes of heaven, they're worth it.
I place my pencil next to me on the grass after I finish the sketch, for once happy with how it came out; the eyes, they're perfect today.
I know his face more clearly too now.
I keep thinking about naming him, though I have no idea what name to give him. I find it weird to call him 'boy' all the time, because he's become so much more to me.
Well, to be honest I have been thinking about this one name, but I'm embarrassed just admitting it to myself.
The name I've been thinking about, is Kohaku. Named after that river, the one that was filled up later on near our old house. I already mentioned that, right? After all, that's what I thought of drawing him for the first time.
Kohaku.
Maybe I'll recall where I met him and who he is. Maybe I'll remember everything. Because once you meet someone, you never really forget them. You can't remember yes, but you never forget. It just takes some time.
And he's always there.
For me, Kohaku is always there.
.
.