Sometimes we'd lay there, and it would be so dark that I couldn't tell if my eyes were closed or not.

And in my memory, you were there.
But my memories are empty. And I can't remember details anymore.

I woke up this morning and realized that I don't know why. Or how. Or when, really.
But I do know that there was a reason for it. A very hidden and nondescript reason.



And I can miss you until my face turns blue. And I can try over and over again to replace you or relive what we had with someone else. But I know I will never be successful.
And nothing can change the fact that I have a life to live. And so many people to meet. And mistakes to make.

The problem is that I don't feel you anymore. I thought my memory of you would live on so perfectly. But I'm starting to forget.

I'm forgetting how it feels to hold you. I'm forgetting how it feels to laugh with you.
I'm forgetting you.

I read past journal entries that don't make sense and look at pictures that I don't remember taking.

My love for you was endless. Or so I thought.

And now I look back and wonder if my old man was right.
But of course he was.

"You'll make mistakes. You'll regret things. You'll fall in love. You'll fall out. And that's life."

I make mistakes.
Maybe you were a mistake. I'm sure my old man thinks so.

But I hope that if there's one thing I never forget,
it's that you were the most beautiful mistake I ever made.