I tend to listen to music as a coping mechanism.
Recently, I've been relistening to the Lemon Boy album by Cavetown.
It makes me feel very bittersweet. Like I'm reminiscing on memories I know I don't have but can recall almost clearly.
Some memories are nice, bonding and messing around in places I've never seen with people I don't remember, other times it's terrible things. Why don't I recognize the faces of people who seem so dear to me? Why can't I find where that was?
It doesn't matter. The memories make me happy. The people may be faceless, and the places may be blurry, but they make me feel safe. Like I've finally found home.
They comfort me. They're like my family.
I want to go back to them, they loved me like no one else did. They were all so kind. Things happened to them, I'm sure. Bad things. Terrible things.
I need to comfort them. I need them to be ok. But it's hard to find someone that you yourself cannot recognize. I don't even remember their names.
Does that make me a bad friend? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to forget.
I miss that beach we'd spend so much time on.
Is our secret hideout still there? The one hidden under the boardwalk?
Where is that beach?
I cannot recall.
I want to remember more, I really do. The one thing that seems clear is that the me you know doesn't seem to look like me at all.
The me you must know is happier.
If you find this, I'm here.
Please find me.
