Commit This to Memory

A few months has passed - moving, settling. I've been considering moving back, but deep down I know that in ten years, I might wish I never did.

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When I look back, would I remember the way you made jokes from puns, and how you once felt bad for tricking me. Maybe I would remember how we used to talk till 4 in the morning, and you would tell me I was up late. Or would I remember the way I tended to state the obvious, following which you would start calling me captain. Perhaps I would remember that you once imagined how I would be fooled by all the things you were reading on April fool's day.

And there were the days we spent together in a world we had created, away from the conditions that would strip us of all colour. You gave me a word with no vowels, and you taught me about shadows and light and many things that made me realise how much you knew about the workings in this world. I never considered my drawings good and I still don't, but you believed in me, wanted to teach me, and you joked about sensing many things you had to teach, one of which involved not burning bbq meat. I remember the way your eyes would fix upon an imaginary point, silently observing. And the one drive we had where you told me you would speak to me soon but I went home feeling like I had lost you. I didn't. I would, but I didn't then. Maybe I did then, but I would never know.

Would I remember that for awhile, thinking about you brought tears to my eyes, and would I remember that you once told me you used to cry easily too. You told me you were never an expressive person, and I couldn't help but wonder why. Would I remember that you told me I had sadness in my eyes, or the way you took both my hands and put them around you.

It was always a full moon. You asked me what I was looking at, and I never told you. It was always a full moon, until the last time, it was waning. You spent one last day with me, and did whatever I wanted. We did nothing significant, but I was happy. "You're cold", you said. A waning moon, a bittersweet time knowing our experiences have culminated.

A few months has passed and I'm writing this now because I know I will forget as I decide to move on, and I want to remember the good parts. I knew from the start that it would end. Thinking back now, what was the point?

love, 15:00
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