Déjà Vu

I have been here before.

I don’t know how. My physical mind cannot answer this question, but every fibre of my being struggles, my soul redirecting, correcting its path.

Is this the same wood we got lost in before?

We once jumped out of the river after a long, arduous swim. We avoided many sharks and clung to fragile twigs, our temples wet with sweat, our bodies soaked in saltwater. For so long, we thought we would lose our bodies to the sea and be assimilated into it, just a drop.

We went through the woods. We lit a few fires. Sometimes you kept me warm; sometimes I held myself. I don’t know how the journey truly was, because my physical mind doesn’t remember it. I have no proof or clue, but I know I was here before.

Somewhere along our path, we found a cozy hut. Maybe we stayed there for a while. We hunted sometimes and cooked food for each other. We shared every morsel. We laughed at nights and listened to the occasional howls outside. I remember thinking, should I stay in the hut forever? Is it ever going to end, this journey through the woods? Isn’t the hut just enough? Isn’t it just alright?

Then one morning, you never returned. I waited for many days, wondering if you had been eaten away, abandoned me, or simply lost the courage to keep going through the woods.

So I decided to leave the hut and continue on my own. I think I made it out of the woods that time. But I don’t remember, as my physical brain doesn’t give me enough. Still, I have some scars on my body and a faint muscle memory of a brave act, as if my soul truly relies on me to make it out of the woods again.

But now I am here again. And every fibre of my being tells me to keep going, to avoid the temporary huts. Sometimes companions never return; they are eaten away, they abandon you, or they lose the courage to go on.

But now I am here again, and all the cells of my body somehow remember these woods. The trees have already absorbed so many of my cries and shrieks. Some long swings hang over the branches. I swear I must have set them up. They have my fingerprints all over them.

I have been here before.

I know these woods too well.