It’s a common saying that time heals all wounds;
but some scabs we can’t help but to pick at.
I didn’t want this wound to heal.
At least not fully.

If it healed then the scab would thin and the scar would fade
and then I’d forget.
As painful as it was to remember at times,
I didn’t want to forget.

I wanted to remember every moment in vivid detail.
I didn’t want to forget or be forgotten.
Even if we never saw each other again,
I convinced myself that I could manage living the rest of my life
in restless contentment if I knew
he’d remember.