Two years ago, I gave our acquaintance a warranty of three years. Remember how I predicted you would not be around by the time I turned twenty two? Is that why you left me at nineteen to prove me wrong? Was it because you remembered how untrusting I was? Because I still remember your silence. That should have warned me, I guess.
Promises to keep in touch that we exchanged. A collective memory, isn’t it? Best friends forever, only now we know that forever does not exist. And friends come and go. The best stay, sometimes only in our hearts. Well, you have to let go! I remember our good times now and then. I hope you do too sometimes.
A love that was not meant to be. The second time I chose to let my broken heart diminish into the nothingness that now prevails. Was it on purpose you said all the right words at the wrong times? Do you remember the way you felt then? Do you remember me? Because I remember you. And every feeling that accompanies.
I remember new findings. I remember growing up. I remember the innocence that I once possessed. I remember loving art, how come I don’t anymore? It does take some struggle to remember birthday dinners and my association with coffee and chocolates. The first memory seems to fade away with time but it does still remain. The feel of sand in my hands and how distance scared me, a vivid memory that makes me question if there is a reason for things to have had changed. And beyond that, there comes a point where I do not remember anymore. But at times I wish I could go back to where I was when I had nothing to remember, when I was nothing at all.
Things that inspired this: two mistakes that I do not regret, a few life lessons disguised as people, coffee, my first memory-Goa, serious grumpy cat feels associated with the realisation of growing up too fast.
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