I only ever asked for the moment, but you seem to think I asked for more.

Time never touched you. It touched me and then I seemed to regret everything. Your hair in my face, eyes in my mind, a darkness I found in you. But you don’t regret. You hold within. You feel in memory because love lost is still a love once had. You remember passion, conversations over dinner, moments interwoven before each other. We die to live, not die to cry over memories which don’t last our expected timeframe.

Not every relationship is meant to last. Some are there to create an impact on your life. Relationships that last three months are just as important as ones that last a lifetime.

I don’t write poetry. I reiterate conversations.

I remember things like dates down to minutes, what they smelled like, how they walked and how they tug their hands in their pockets. I twine myself in nostalgia of moments and not necessarily the people in them. I long for the idea of the past and occasionally forget the present. I find myself lost in memories, just looking to recreate the moment; forgetting the past is in the past and what we have is now.

And I wonder if the moment I die will know it’s the moment I die.

Some of our truths are scarier than our horrors.

You slip in night because darkness is a type of coldness. A temperature where you feel somewhat safe. By feeling safe, you feel like you. You blend in with the night causing your shades to become temporary enough to expose them.

I laid in darkness, in bed with the same song on repeat for hours. I wasn’t sad. I was happy because that’s what happiness was to me.