So much of what’s happened is a blur. So many moments I swore I’d remember in vivid detail are now meshed together in to a blur of a timeline.
It started so clean and orderly, outlined in my neat, tiny handwriting. Slightly curled y’s and g’s strung together with various vowels, consonants and punctuations – always the proper punctuations – forged the ever winding path of my life.
Carefully dictated and depicted for later inspection, I kept detailed accounts of each event. Night to night. Day to day. Conversation to conversation. I remembered everything down to precise images and exact quotations.
That was how I operated. In detail. Everything enhanced and exaggerated, remembered to full effect so as to have inspiration to draw from when the well of my creativity ran dry. Nothing could have prepared me for wanting to forget.
Forget the exact set of his jaw as he said words I’d replay in my head long after they were spoken. But I want to.
I want to forget. Everything. I no longer wish to be a walking catalogue of my own life. I remember so much.
I can’t forget the feel of his arms around me as we laid, entangled in his bed.
I can’t forget the smell of his skin as his weight pressed down upon me, the feel of his lips on my neck, his lower lip between my teeth.
I can’t forget the pull that out pulls gravity and drags me to him time and time again.
I can’t forget the feel of his breath on the back of my neck.
I can’t forget the inevitability of smiling whenever he’s within my line of vision.
I can’t forget the times he’s made me laugh through my waterfall of tears.
I can’t forget the eruption in the pit of my stomach when the smallest sliver of hope was given to me.
I can’t forget the torrential downpour of misery when that hope was taken away.
It’s all happened so fast. Just one year. My clear cut timeline is a blur in my head and yet I can’t forget these things he’s done to me, these feelings he’s defined for me. Engrained in me. I can’t forget that I love him. I can’t forget that I always will.