It had been many years, seventeen to be precise, since she last strolled through Central Park. She’d had it all, a relatively stable career, a down payment for a house and a loving husband. Then she blinked, and suddenly the big ‘forty’ was looming like a big, fat ‘I-told-you-so’ from her mother.
Strangers idled by – a few couples, a young family and several joggers most likely on their lunch break. Nature had always been an escape, a way to soother her mind, but nothing could help today.
Today would have been her birthday. Today could have been a celebration but instead it had become a representation of everything she hadn’t achieved over the years – thirteen years. Sarah would have been thirteen, she winced, in the time it takes for someone to get through primary school she had achieved nothing.
She stopped for a coffee at a nearby cart, handed the man a few dollars and continued on. The air was crisp, but the sun was still painting the surrounding landscape into an array of Autumn colours. How do people ever truly move forward in life? She thought. Is it always just a case of forcing oneself to forget something?
She had been told that the only real way to move forward was to go backwards – to relive the moment and to actively seek a solution. With most situations that seemed logical, but with this, she couldn’t. To relive such an emotion always wreaked too much havoc with her mind.
This was her stopping the clock. Hiding. Hibernating. She needed to step away for just a short while, Robert would understand eventually…