Memories are treasures of the heart,
pictures of the soul,
And outcomes of the mind.
But sometimes they are supposed to be hidden deep inside, peeled through the layers of the mind to be deeply buried to be able to stop feeling the laughs from the old grainy pictures, the cries of a baby from a old video recording, the smell of ink from the old crinkly papers of the love letters between a soldier and his wife.
In my case, I had to forget someone who never existed to the eyes of the world.
Who never stopped waiting.
Who never stopped loving.
But one day, stopped living.
Yes, Brent Liam Page was a figment of my imagination, a part of the important chapters of my life, who wasn't in the grainy pictures or the recordings or the letters. There was no proof of his existence, except for the love he stamped in my heart, the soul less pieces of memories, burning the pit of my stomach even after two painful years.
The still not fading voice which had driven me here today to move on from what I never really could call as mine but always felt that way.
I learned to smile and pretend everything was fine rather than admit my heart was a little swollen from losing something that wasn't even mine.
The simple truth? You'll never have today again and I felt that brent, I felt it the way you feel it all after the ending of a story, I felt our end.
The most beautiful part is, I wasn't even looking when I found you in the vast ocean, And I drowned under the waves of words I never said. I thought I had time Brent, you see I realized time is a bully, It just burns until there's only smoke, leaving behind a black crisp of your potential.
It's ironic isn't it? How hope kept us breathing, just to kill us in the end. Who am I kidding? Was there ever a 'us'? I don't know brent, I'm confused, I'm stuck between reality and fantasy, grasping onto both never wanting to let you go and that hurts, that hurts like hell and I cherish it, yes I cherish the pain, cause it's the only way I can remember you.
Memories- aren't they just painful.
