We’re here and now, but will we ever be again
‘Cause I have found
All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade
Away again

It’s true. The beauty fades. But not the fucking memories. Those are still as shiny as ever. Fuck, let’s face it. They’re blindingly bright. We try to stuff them away. Hide them, pretend they aren’t there. We put them in little black boxes in the back of our mind. We throw away the fucking key. But just try, just try to close your eyes for one fucking second. Do you know what those little bastards do? They flood your whole fucking head as if they were there the whole time. The good ones and the bad ones. All there, in our dreams in our thoughts, just parading about. They almost mock us.

I remember. Sweet fucking lord do I remember. But what are we told to do as adults? Put those away. Those silly dreams, those hopes. Those are for little kids. Those times are behind you. You can’t have them anymore. Adults aren’t supposed to play with those things. Those dreams. Those happy times. The times when nothing else in the world mattered. When we didn’t have a care in the world. When it was clear who you loved and who loved you. And you could be with them all time. Doing whatever the fuck you wanted to. But more than that, whatever you were doing was always exactly what you wanted to do, because they were there. And when they were there that was all that mattered. Everything else was incidental, immaterial, just a fortuitous happenstance.

But as I said before, beauty fades. Sometimes that person fades, sometimes they disappear all together. And sometimes, just fucking sometimes, that person is ripped from your life and taken away. And day after day you wait for the cruel fucking joke to end. But it doesn’t fucking end. And every day you continue to wake up ¬†with the gaping fucking hole in your heart and no matter what the fuck you fill it with it never gets any fucking smaller. And those memories. they never get any dimmer. If anything they get brighter, like a super nova. The memories just keep exploding into your mind. It’s been 11 fucking years and they still sit there, taunting me. But like a super nova if I reach out to grab them all they do is burn. Every time I think I can reach out and touch them the just get hotter and hotter and I shirk away, clutching my singed hand.

But then it gets worse. You know what happens to a super nova. It explodes and then collapses again. Those fucking memories. They explode and then they collapse again. And they’re denser than anything in the universe. They turn into a black hole. A thing so heavy and so fucking dense that nothing can escape its pull. Not even light, not even happiness. That black hole of memories that just sits in that giant spot in your heart. And it’s all you can do to not sink into them and be lost forever to them. They just pull at you constantly. Always fucking pulling. You start to resent them, before the inevitable. The event horizon, you begin to cross it, and you become lost forever to the memories.

I remember. I remember every movie, every meal, every ray of sun, every grain of sand on every beach we sat upon. I remember every wave we caught, every wipe out, every board we ever broke. I remember every dive we ever sauntered into, every beer we ever drank, every shot we ever swallowed, even the shots we lit on fire. I remember every step we took, every mile we ran, every finishing tape we broke. I remember every boulevard we cruised, every woman we tried to pick up. Every one that turned us down, every one that said yes. I remember every 3 am breakfast at Denny’s, after every club we ever went to. I remember the High Roller (inside joke, I’ll explain it someday). I remember. I remember every second, every moment where we lit up each other’s solar systems. Like two suns colliding. You were beautiful. You were the brightest thing in my life. You were a god damn super nova and you were so fucking beautiful. You weren’t just my world, you were my star. God dammit, and now you’re gone and all I fucking have is your fucking black hole of memories.

And the tears. I have the tears, soaking into my shirt, being sopped up by another fucking box of tissues. This is all I really have.

It’s too far away for me to hold
It’s too far away…
Guess I’ll let it go