I feel like you may remember all the little things now, like how I say stop with too many syllables when you make fun of me or you're bugging me. How I have a certain smile on my face when I stare at you for too long because it is almost impossible to stop once I see a glance of those strikingly vividly blue eyes that are so captivating I never realize that I am even staring until you make a face and ask me what in that certain tone that makes me smile even harder. Or how I absently touch you in some way because it had become such a habit I have to make a constant effort to keep a space. Or how I used to breathe just a little slower when you would hug me and I'd smile for God knows how long after because I had a few seconds of feeling utterly safe. But what happens when you forget the way I looked at you, or how I make weird sounds when I almost fall or drop something. Or how I bring a book to your house at the expense of being called a nerd, and how I would deny being that until I died because I may know I am a nerd but I wouldn't ever agree. Or how stubborn I am about eating, or how I can't stand odd numbers except in intervals of five because they just seem wrong otherwise, and that's why I always make sure the volume on the tv is even or ends in five, and how I don't cook food in the microwave at odd numbers even if its too hot at that point. Because soon enough, you'll forget all of those small quirks. and they will be like an old jingle from a commercial that was on tv years ago, and you're able to hum the tune, but can never remember the words. I'll be the girl whose name you can't quite remember but you know her nickname started with a "K". You'll see my picture years from now, and think I look so familiar but you can't quite place me, and you'll spend maybe a hard ten minutes on trying to remember, but all that comes to mind is that same familiar but old jingle tune, and it will play over and over until you push it was, and that finally disintegrates along with everything else.
I can promise something that you may forget along with the rest, but I will never forget your eyes and how they are the most beautiful shade of blue I have ever encountered. They are honest and true and kind. I know I will remember how your fingers feel when you held my hand while you would drive, and how even now I can almost feel it as thought it was happening now, and how I would get butterflies if you brushed up against me. I'll remember how I figured out how to not make a bad day worse. I won't lose the memory of learning how to push just quite enough so you would take your meds, or eat. I will not forget making your lunches every morning while listening to my classes and doodling on the front of it with your name, making each one unique in a small way. I definitely won't forget how it made my day start the way a decent day should when you'd start it by smiling at me and end it kissing me good-bye, promising me to let me know when you got there because I worry too much. And I won't forget the almost daily,"See you after work, I love you." as the door would shut behind you. i won't forget the day you brought me into the house carrying me on your back because I was dragging my feet while hanging on you. I won't forget the bad times either. I won't forget the bad nights which either included us handling it together, especially the one night mom was even up, or the nights where we went to bed angry, or sad. I think I was the latter, because I was a little too sensitive then. I still am in some ways. I do know I am more accepting of the things that have been said that would hurt me. But I still will remember it all, because they're all memories with or about you. Because I know no matter what happens, I will never forget you. I do know one more thing, as much as you tell me you won't leave; life happens and choices are made we don't think would ever be made in the moment. And with the acceptance of that, I have accepted the possibility of being forgotten.
I know I won't not as long as the love I have for you and our experiences is still apart of me, and I don't think that will be a hard thing to keep going. Not after everything you've done for me and my family.
