Writing Journal

I had an experience a while ago that, even as it was happening, seemed slightly surreal. Perhaps it was like deja vu, except I don't think I had ever had this experience before. Since it was something that could have happened in the past, it was almost as though I were living the memory of a fantasy. If that makes sense.

What I first found odd about the 15 minute experience was how much of it I remembered later. Hours afterwards, I was talking to someone and briefly (in a line or two) summized the experience. As I was speaking, it all came back to me. Every moment of those minutes was accounted for in my memory.

Perhaps stranger is that I kind of have this visual of the experience. I can see the lightness that was in my step, as it was a very pleasant experience. I can also see the other characters, if you will, and their faces. I might even venture to say that I was aware of those things during the experience itself. Part of me wants to use this as a scene in a story, as it was rather something like out of a Jane Austen novel (and I've been almost immersed in Austenian stories as of late between books and movies). In fact, it rather reminds me of a particular scene in Sense and Sensibility.

But I feel it would become less real somehow.

Even the journal entry I made about it and the vagueness with which I have been using here casts shadows upon it. It has left me questioning whether or not I can cast aside the sentimentality of my appreciation for the experience and dilute it by sharing it in writing.

I just thought of a similar experience I had some time before this one. I spun that scene into words, taking some creative liberties with the facts, and shared it with some friends, all hopes for feedback being dashed. The first experience (and the most recent in my life) could actually do a good deal of good as backstory for the experienced I've already turned into a short short.

Perhaps life is just handing me one or two experiences every so often, intending a story to be told.