Lost Memories

Sometimes it hits me again like a ton of bricks.

We were waiting for Rugrats to come on. All of us had recently seen Titanic. So naturally, while we sat on my aunt and uncle's bed, we pretended that we were Rose and Jack and on top of the door. We played it over and over, "I'll never let go, Jack." When Rugrats finally came on, we all stopped to watch. Except for her. She wanted to play it with me one more time. Half paying attention to her, I grabbed her arms and pulled her up on to the bed one last time. She laughed and laughed, and then suddenly her laughter turned into a shriek and crying. I had pulled her arm out of her socket. I felt terrible. My uncle took her to the hospital, and I have always felt bad about accidentally hurting her.

I have so many memories that she is trapped inside of. So many one on one moments... And I am the only thing that observes them still. That is weird to me. Memories are special to you, and to those you share them with. But when you're gone, and they are gone, the memories are also gone.

I wish I didn't obsess over stuff like this. But, I do. Because, it is surreal. And at the same time, it is the only thing that has felt real.