The scary thing about how time heals is that I forgot the only person I wanted to remember. I force myself to be okay with that. I started to lose
all the details about her, all the fights I knew I'd lose before the arguments began, because I couldn't stand to think about her being upset with me. I was quick to let her think that the tension between us healed that neither of us could remember the reason we were fighting in the first place. I forgot
her coffee order when she's sad, I forgot how she freaked out when she lost the callback to someone we despised. I forgot how she remembers that I counted how many chicken nuggets I ordered. She was all about knowing the little things that kept me at ease, that healed my stress away from her. But then I knew that,
with the poison I kept on the tip of my tongue, that would be impossible. She tended to forget even though she was the one to heal me emotionally when no one else could, she would lose me at the same time with disappointment. It was not her fault. About four years now, I'm still alone in pictures. I remember
that we were always together in a single frame. I remember I kept my mouth closed and she smiled with her teeth. That passenger seat remained empty, beneath a full moon about to transform into new. Once I forget eclipses only last a few hours, I lose the nostalgia that never did get me healed.
Replaying my memories will not heal what I once had. I will not remember everything I thought I'd never lose. Once it hits, I am on the floor, pressing into the cold tiles, so close that I can reimagine her skin, and I will never forget all of the things I thought about.
I believe she can no longer heal me and that kills me. I can't remember to forget her. I constantly wonder about her, and the universe I lost.