Like the warmth in her hands.
With every day that passes and new experiences that I encounter, I involuntarily head towards the process of forgetting. One day, I’ll remember you not as I remember you now. That day will be bittersweet, because it will be when you have turned into but a speck of scattered fragments floating in my ocean of memories, where you once used to be an entire continent.
Filling that space would be the times I spent living, when it almost felt like I had lost the will to.
