Exploring abandoned ruins was something I've done for nearly a decade now.

It was always fun and exciting to find a new one.

Exploring the inside, finding the little fingerprints of history that they left behind.

I was always fascinated by the tops of these temples.

The way it reached for the skies above as if presenting itself to nature's elements.

Showing off its beauty, complimenting the walls it sits upon.

The walls invite intrigue and curiosity about what sits within itself.

I explored many of these temples.

There was one, however, that I became enamored with.

It was tall, wide, and covered in detail.

It couldn't have been more than 1900 years old yet in pristine condition.

When I first encountered this temple, I was fascinated.

While some of its features like size and material weren't my favorites, I still held it in high regard.

It was the first temple where I really looked at its features.

I studied them as my life depended on it.

Every crack, tile, and rock I found I wrote down in my book.

I was around the temple so often that I basically lived there for a month or two at one point.

My life became the temple.

However, a curious thing happened one day when I was returning for another examination.

It was gone.

It was clear that it was there at one point, with a large area without growth clearly imprinted into the earth.

There were large bricks and rocks where its supports would've been.

I was not only confused, but crushed.

Where had this artifact of history gone?

Even if I had explored everything I was able to explore, I couldn't return to it.

I had every detail ingrained in my mind, but I could never see it with my own eyes again.

But there was nothing I could do.

So I moved on.

I found that I moved on remarkably fast.

In fact, shortly after, I found a temple.

Well... that isn't true.

I had found this temple before, but I never tried to explore it.

I didn't think that it was something that would interest me.

I had found it in a new location in the forest that I had never entered before.

And while it was my first find, and interested immediately, I never actually entered.

Now that I was returning to it though, I noticed something different.

I couldn't see the entire temple.

It was definitely there, but the fauna that had grown around it was thick and difficult to see through.

The actual temple was hidden within the green.

While I found this enticing immediately, knowing there was now another step of uncovering its juicy history.

But I found I couldn't do it.

I couldn't bring my knife up to the vines and cut them down.

The plants had grown so thick that I couldn't even imagine what it might look like.

What secrets it may hold.

When I try to imagine its walls, I imagine what others look like instead.

There was a weird mental block that prevented my mind from visualizing anything about it that wasn't already visible.

Usually, when I came across cases like this, where fauna hid parts of the temple, I had a strategy.

I would take the aspects of the temple that surrounded the fauna and measure how the fauna grew on the rock.

If the fauna jutted out a bit or had a sunken area, I knew there was a jutted piece of the temple or a missing piece.

I could even guess what color the rocks underneath were based on how grown the fauna was and how thick it was.

Typically when there were temples like this, I would at least be able to accurately approximate what I might be in for.

But for this... I couldn't do it.

It is like by not taking my chance to explore the first time I came across the temple, I gave up my opportunity to learn what was inside.

There were others I expedited with, not exactly friends, but coworkers.

We had all attempted to access this temple, but couldn't make it past the mental barrier we all seemed to have.

Some were more aggressive with their approach, but they found that the temple rejected them in some way.

It was clear that the temple had the power to actually reject others from entering within its walls or witnessing them.

Most have given up, and I didn't blame them.

It would feel wrong to unclothe the green from the walls of the temple.

Like if I wasn't given consent from the sacred temple, I would be trespassing.

This naturally only intrigued me more, but I couldn't allow myself to enter the temple in any way.

To this day, I cannot enter this temple.

I sit outside, watching it, trying to visualize in my mind what I might be able to see.

It's almost become a meditation.

I know that the temple needs to allow me entry before I can really enter.

I may never be given access.

But I hope that my patience will allow me that access, the consent to do so.

I know that in order to see what the temple looks like I should just go in.

But I can't.

I cannot force the unwilling temple to allow me to see its beauty.

So I sit and wait.

Hoping that I can someday witness its history.