Forgotten

They call them small things.

The forgotten details hidden inside that worm like part of the brain. A minute area compared to the rest, given the task of retaining… You.

I do not find them to be small though. You were not a small thing.

I wander aimlessly, room to room. Fingers grazing the wall ever so gently. Hoping that the contact strikes a cord and brings IT back. I do this so often. I have done this for so long. Time flows gracefully on it’s way today regardless of my efforts. The results of my search are always the same.

Hmm… today the wine glasses draw my gaze. I stride towards them with hope trying to fester it’s way in and bloom out through my limbs. I slightly caress the rim and slowly make my way down to the bottom of the stem. On and on I go repeating the same motions. Hope withers after a while because IT didn’t return.

I sigh as my head falls forward and my shoulders sag. Again, my pursuit of YOU has failed…

It’s not often that I’m drawn to a particular object so when I am I can not help but hope.

This is not selfish. That’s what I tell myself. It was mine and I lost it. There one day and gone the next. No warning. There one day and gone the next. It can come back. I’m sure of it. I am so sure of it that I walk everyday. I search endlessly for a marker or a clue as to how to make it return. Surely, after so long, dedication is rewarded. I can find it and undo losing it to begin with.

Maybe the wine glasses were too high off the floor. Maybe the vase from a while back was too low. Coffee mugs too close to the corner to really be able to help. So much time was spent in here. It should have been easiest to find IT here, right?

The blinds. The blinds. The blinds! Each piece of the blind at a different stature. It must be there. It has to be. It’s impossible for it not to be. I spent months at those blinds. I could not find IT…. Maybe it’s lost somewhere perfectly in between two of them…

Where is it? Why is it hidden? Of all the little things to go away from me, why must this one go? How could I have been so careless as to lose this one thing?

I know your hair and the texture. I know your smile and I can hear your laugh. I see your hands. I see them just as they were. I see them as they lift up but they stop when I lift my eyes. They stop.

I can write it on paper. I can describe it but I can’t find it. Your height is gone from me. I do not know where my eyes are supposed to stop… I do not know the place where they meet yours anymore. Your hands can’t reach for me because I can’t find where your fingertips stop. So how are they ever supposed to move to surround me again? I can’t feel your embrace anymore.

I haven’t done this. It can’t be real. I have not lost this small detail. This monumental memory, to me. It’s here somewhere. A mark. A place. Something. I lose so much, so forgetful, but I can’t be so irresponsible to have lost this.

I’ve changed nothing. Nothing. Why can’t I see what’s behind your silhouette to show me where you stood. Where your hands lifted from to begin their trek. Slowly up to embrace me. Your hug. Your touch. Your comfort. Your strength. Just one last time…

It’s here. I’ll walk again. I must have just barely missed it this time. Silly me. This time it will come back to me…