Wordless Writer

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.

Even so, I must admire your skill. You are so gracefully insane.

I have a terrible memory, really. Names and birthdays, and past conversations, everything fades away too soon. Maybe that’s why I started writing everything down, because there are some memories too important to forget, and so I write it all down. I write down the way my heart was booming against my chest, like a speaker with the volume all the way up. I write down the way he grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight, I write down the streets we drove and the songs that were playing. I have a terrible memory, I really do, but I don’t forget the feelings. I don’t forget how it felt like my heart was finally thawing, like the beginning of us was the beginning of spring, and the icicles started to melt, and I welcomed the warmth. I fly over the details, but they’re not gone. Every word becomes a memory, and I’m moved to love as if this second is going to end any minute, so I day dream about the future like it might not come because it isn’t guaranteed and so I pull you closer right now. And right now will fade to dust inside my mind faster than I’d like, but it makes no sense to me that we were ever apart. So if I can’t have the memories, I’ll settle for trying to make every minute last a little longer

Your first love will be the one who teaches you the sweet, salty, sour, spicy and the bitterness of a relationship.

Sure, in the future we could still be friends. I’ll just carry on as if you never broke my heart, and you as if I never reminded you that you had one.

I hope you don’t mind, but I turned you into literature. It’s the only option I had left that made any sense, and even then it’s not enough.