Memories. Memories play such a blatantly hurtful role in life. Memories of good times, memories of bad times, memories of ok times, and then memories of times you want to forget. I remember a time when memories were all that kept me alive, that kept me going. Memories of a look, memories of a touch, memories of a word said passionately, memories of eyes that spoke volumes, memories of memories, memories of a gaze so intense it could melt you in place, memories of a love that now seems distant and un reachable. Memories supported me, they fed my soul, they gave me hope. They torture me now. They come back to remind me what a waste all those times were. Times spent talking. Times spent trying to make you believe I truly do love you. Times spent caring about you, times spent believing you loved me, believing you cared about me. Yes you offer me refuge, a place to lick my wounds. But do you realize most of those wounds are inflicted by you? It a cruel twist of fate that I should be in this position while you remain seemingly untouched. How can I explain to you what you are to me? How can I tell you that I still feel the same? That living with you will always be the best option for me? That I am still crazy about you? My life definitely doesn’t revolve around you, but you are one of the stars in my universe that I gaze upon more often than others. You are a beacon of hope for me. And yet it looks like I will spend my life haunted by memories of you. By memories of us. Because all I have are memories. Memories that will make me cry and smile at the same time, that will be the glue that keeps me together, and the hammer that will shatter my existence.
