Dear Addie,
I remember our first date.
You wanted to go outside the city so that's where we went. We drove all the way to the desert. Then we sat on the top of my old red car and looked at the stars. We talked about everything we possibly could. I don't remember a lot but at the same time I do. It's weird. I remember that your laugh sounded like little bells and I remember how your hair glowed and your eyes shined. I remember all your favourite songs and the name of that poem you really liked but I don't remember the words. I remember the kiss...
I will never forget the kiss.
But I don't remember what led to it.
I hate how everything is fading away over time. But I guess sometimes that's good. After you left a lot of memories aren't as painful as before. The crash wiped out a lot them for sure. It definitely wiped out some of the good ones too, but I can't remember.
There was a time where I didn't remember you either. But over time new memories come to me. I often have flashbacks at unexpected times.
Like I would be in the library, see a book and remember you liked a book from the same author. Or I would be in my backyard and remember your favourite song. I hope one day I get all my memories back, I don't care if they're the bad ones or the good ones. I want to know you. Unfortunately you can't tell me anything because you're gone and that's what makes it hard. I'm sorry about the last letter. I'm not mad at you. I just got a flashback of you the day I wrote it and it was a bad memory. A really bad one.
My parents still refuse to tell me how I got into the crash or how you left but I guess one day I'll find out. I'm working on it. But, Addie you have to understand it's incredibly hard to learn things about someone who is already gone by the time you get to them.
Yours,
Christopher
