3 of 30/ repetition pt.2/ 30

I used to want to cut through 

my past until every memory of you 

was erased, I wanted

to undo the mistakes I made so 

that I could make them in

another time,

another place, but

sometimes repetition doesn’t

mean fickle, sometimes

repetition just means realisation,

and I guess I was foolish then,

foolish now, because I’ve 

always believed in doing what

you love until it’s made mostly

of memories , so why shouldn’t 

I feel the same about you?

You see, I remember all the

birthdays, the songs, the trips,

I remember the almost fights and

the missteps, the awkward 

shift from something to nothing,

and I guess I don’t want to go

back to nothing just to

perpetuate a code that never

was more than a sham, a farce,

a misstep, you see,

you know what my favourite 

flavour of icecream is and why

I can’t bear smoke, and I know

things about you that you never

thought you could utter aloud, 

and our lives have been so 

intertwined, I’m not sure what 

a sunset looks like if you’re not

witnessing it too, not sure 

what to watch when I can’t

see you, not sure what to read 

when you’re not reading it too, 

you see, I wanted to cut through 

my past and remove all my

memories of you, and I still do,

but only to make a scrapbook

out of them, because something

about you is just too

special not to keep around.

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