Everyday I remember her, everyday I forget her.
I've seen a thousand stars come and go, I've lived a million lives and I have
never felt this before.
At least that's what I say to myself every time I fall in love.
How many years has it been?
Somewhere around 2000 years I suppose?
I don't like to think about that often. But today I will. Because
today is the day I finally re-remembered my birthday. It's been a
week since I have lost Marianne. Or in other words, 60,5906
seconds since the time I buried her. I can still feel her warm
breath across my neck , her stubbornness, her unrelenting fear of
spiders which I have to deal with every time, her love of potato
chips and jelly filled donuts. The one time she decided to give me
a surprise by buying movie tickets to one of those Mummy horror
flicks and laughing at all the historical inaccuracies which
nevertheless was fun. I love her. I loved her. I will love her.
The most ironic thing is, I don't remember my childhood at all, my
earliest memory is in a farm, in the hills, with my parents. Oh,
there were goats too. All she would talk to me was about how
strict her parents were and what TV shows she watched as a child,
how her life was in her youth. She was 68 years old when she died.
She used to know me as a damn good archaeologist who discovered
the lost city of Khorrama, before we got married. But I don't care
about Khorrama,not anymore, I wanted to find it because there
used to be a grave of a lover whom I used to visit. I couldn't
find it no matter how much I searched it.
One might think what need does an immortal have of love, to a
normal man his entire life is that of how much he has lived, how
many hours he has slept, how many years he has spent building this
bridge and conquering an empire, but to me, that is but hours
worth of my memory. Does a person remember what they had for
breakfast a week ago? That's what it is like for me for an entire
lifetime.
The only way I could keep myself sane and have any way to sort my
memories is by sharing it with people, without that, I would have
made myself a lunatic. I have lost nearly a hundred years of my
memory just by doing that once in the past.
A mirror can never be broken, it only shatters into more mirrors.
It's time to end this letter now. I've decided to upload this in
many obscure corners of the internet so that I can have some fun
in the next centuries to come.
I hope I'll find this in a couple hundred years from now.
Sincerely,
Abraham Blue Sr.
