I edit my own memory
My history a constant mosaic of events that may or may not have happened
Over dramatized or overlooked
Cut for time
Added for effect
Sometimes I forget who I am
Was that conversation real?
I replay moments thatve been tampered by my own biased feelings
Occasionally though
There are things I can recall perfectly
At 6 years old I layed in the back of my parents car and watched tree branches
float through the sky as if being pulled by on a sheet
From time to time my memory focuses
And I'll gesture as if fixing the lens
And then the clarity of your face on that perfect night cuts through
Your speaker reflected blue and green and reds on the walls while we listened to Elliot and spoke about life like cinema
I remember thinking that this could not be real
That someone added another reel to my reality to make it more interesting
And I remember you slipping into sleep and as my eyes grew heavy I couldn't help the small stream of tears that built up and collapsed in the corners of them
That moment was pure happiness for me
I hope it was for you too
We may never have a moment like that again
Who knows
But I'm so glad I could share something that beautiful with you
I wouldn't want it with anyone else