“A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.”
-Christina Georgina Rossetti
Someone is really never gone. Someone is still there waiting for lunch or saying you will go the distance or has a note to tell you there’s someone watching your back or wanting a plane ride.
Just how do you remember someone gone? When the tenderness has faded and gone to solitude, just how do you revive warmth and affection? When longing for that faint caress on your palm, just how do you recall sensation? When someone has bid love on you, just how do you recover that snail smile it made you and your day. Even when someone is gone, as moonlight recedes for day, you remember that once there was someone who made everything so adorable and expect to see a lovely sight again even in darkness.
So you think what could have been had things happened so differently, had the Sun never set on you. You muse now if things would have been different, perchance you would have had the chance to admit reciprocity of desire. Perchance you would have the guts to admit it bears you down to say next time. Nights would have been different too. Days would have been a lot brighter. Moments would have been a lot lighter. Maybe you would have shared more moments side by side talking about sweet and good things that only occur in sincere devotion. You bear the loneliness of a cerebral love that never really came true. But it leaves a lovely loveliness footprint that are unlike footprints in the sands of time.
Imagination stretches to a childish wandering when you try to remember someone who could have been. There is no limit to fatalism that only you could justify. So you think that if only you could hold your someone, it would have been so tight that it would leave a mark on the wrist and wherever your someone goes, you will always be tagged along. You think of triumph of the hearts much like musings of a future long gone but now may only be recalled in a thought. You are cognizant that you may never become as before. Yet, you remember as if longing for an opportunity to be together again, to be together again for one last goodbye.
Remembering is a parting gift you never open.