There are days when the past presses upon me not as sorrow, but as presence—
as though memory itself is a second breath, quieter, but no less real.
It is spoken in another language…
“Recordar es volver a vivir.”
To remember is to live again.
Indeed, I find it so.
In remembering, I do not mourn.
I reenter.
For what is memory, if not the soul’s ability to cross time.
...The Rest Is His Story 
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