I love remembering. It almost feels like you’re still here, that you’re still a part of my life. Which in a way, you kind of are. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. Mentally.
I’m remembering that time, it was probably around 1 in the morning, & we were texting. I asked you to tell me a story because I wasn’t in the most cheerful mood. I thought I had annoyed you, when after 10 minutes, you still hadn’t responded. Then, I got like a 10 page text, which was a story you had made up on the spot just to make me happy. I remember locking those texts because it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. I read that story until I had it memorized & could recite it in my sleep.
I almost feel like I should let go, but I honestly feel like it would hurt me more than holding on. I find reasons to smile, just by remembering. The little things, even. The things that most people would find insignificant & meaningless. I think I’m starting to go mad, just by clinging to memories, wishing to wake up the next day only to create more. I hold them so close & carefully, as if they might slip between my fingers & shatter into a million pieces, too small to be put back together.
I miss everything about you, old friend. I will always remember, even if it kills me.