Sometimes and often I attempt to remember how things were only months ago, and it seems as if I cannot do so.
I remember memories of memories Like beaten and old film clips from the 80s. In the same way old movies and photos don’t look truly real, because they look different, it’s a whole other world out there, coloured differently, different clothes and cameras and lifestyles, except everyone still acts mostly the same, I know this but it is still hard for me to know it.
That was me only four months ago. Things were very different for me too, it was like another era that my parents were a part of, not me. Turns out I’m not much of a me Without you.