Thursday, April 14, 2011


They are gone.

I never looked for them, or verified their existence, I just assumed they existed and would always stick around.

I didn't think about them, but now that I know they're gone, I realize I need them.

I need to know what that piece of paper said. I need to remember the look on his face when he gave it to me. They are such small things, inconsequential details, but they are the little bits that make up my history.

They're gone. No gradual fading, or blurry pictures of that scene. Just the knowledge that that scene existed.

That should be enough, but it's the small things, the details, the smells, the pictures on the wall, that make the memory whole. Those are the things I don't have, and they're the things that would keep me from doubting myself.

Because I know that it happened. But did it?

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