Favorite Memory

I knew, at that moment, you would soon become my favorite memory.

The summer breeze floated softly the day I met you. We had that kind of cordial greeting like two acquaintances who ran in the same circles of mutual friends but had never formally met. There was something so familiar about you even though I knew we had never met. We both took a leap that day. A chance on one another. I trusted you in a way that I had never trusted before, that you had not been trusted before. We knew without words that this was something special, merely the start of a wonderful adventure and I had to hold myself back from rushing in. They marveled at our fast friendship and gave us every opportunity to grow together. I’ll always be grateful for that. 

I’ll never forget the roar of the crowds when they heard our name. I savored the way our names sounded together. Cherished our heartbeats joined in time as we raced against the clock and thrilled anyone who cared to watch. That memory is etched in my heart, engraved into my being, and written and rewritten in my mind. My hands can still feel my connection to you and my eyes still look in your direction. I tried to memorize every detail of that day so that no matter where life took me, I would never forget. 

Flash forward a year and we’re tight as can be. I anticipate your next move, you save me from falling. We soar through the summer speaking a language without words, our silent connection that links our hearts. I’ve never been myself with anyone like I was with you. I tried new things, pushed my own limits, and never took a second of our time together for granted. I could tell you didn’t either. You were kind and patient with me as I learned, yet you respected my judgment call and trusted me to take the lead. I always said you were the smarter one of the two of us, and now I’m sure. The day we danced across the sandbox by the pepper trees and mountains, I knew I wanted to do everything with you. 

Remember when my dreams almost touched the sky? How I begged you to keep adventuring with me, to go faster, fly higher, and I dared for us to run away and never come back? I was exhausted, weighed down by the responsibilities of life, but you carried me through it all. I cherish that summer, the way you were loving, and you sweet after a long day’s work, and I found I was never too tired to spend time with you. Because in the end, it was all for you. I look back at that summer and I smile because we reached for the clouds that year and we played and laughed among them. When we crossed that finish flag, our tired bones knew that somehow, it had all been worth it and I knew, at that moment, you would soon become my favorite memory.

After that year we spent the next fighting dragons, overcoming mountain ranges of expectations, and battling the weight of reality in this new unknown. You were the only thing that made me happy that year. The hope I had for us echoed in my head on my darkest days. I wondered if it was worth it all, but I knew, at least, I had you. We tumbled through transitions and change, tried our very very best, and I found a way to be okay because at least I had you. Nothing could be so bad if we were together right? So we made the most of those lonely days, saw each other in the sun and the rain, danced without purpose, adventured without direction, and tried to wait out the storm. 

But maybe somewhere, I knew. When we were dancing, when we were flying, when we doing nothing in particular, but just existing together, I knew, at that moment, you would soon become my favorite memory. I knew one day my world would crash to an end. But I guess I had this stupid little fairytale vision of it all. I thought we’d grow tired and weary together. I thought we’d age out of adventuring and live a life of peace in our togetherness and then, only then, would our souls drift apart. That’s how we all want it to end right? I mean, it doesn’t make it easier when it does, but that picturesque fantasy of growing old and accepting grief gracefully is so enticing. But what is wishing worth when we lose?

Now I’ve traveled this earth alone for six long months. Now I’ve grieved and cried out in pain and desperately wanted to be anywhere but here. Now I’ve screamed and wept, slept, and searched for you in my dreams. I’ve lost you again and again and again, every time I wake up and think for a moment my world is okay, but reality shatters me and it’s like that first phone call. That’s what they don’t tell you about grief. How long it lasts, how it never really goes away because they are never coming back. They don’t tell you what to say or do or feel. You never know what you want or what would make things better. How does anyone get anything done in a world full of grief?

 I asked myself this every day. Every day, I’ve cried for you and wandered in no particular direction. I’ve picked myself up and forced myself through the motions and emotions of the day. I’ve scrubbed the stains of my pain on my cheeks and twisted my heart to hide behind the safety of “I’m fine” and “Really, I’m okay, thank you though.” The concerned looks and well-intentioned touches have slowed over the months and maybe the rush of the pain has too. Maybe it’s just become a part of me now. I’ve tried to come out the other side, and now I know. I know, now, you are my favorite memory.