Some days I forget you, you know I can’t hug you, kiss you or find you at home. Your life and mine are only in memories and only in memories do they meet. But life is made up of everyday things, hate, love and the passing of time without leaving space for memories, even if you don’t look for them they still resurface. This is why it hurts me when my hand doesn’t meet yours. It hurts me not to see you. How are you now? How are you without me? Memory is an animal that sleeps and wakes. No it eats, sleeps and wakes up. Even thought it doesn’t mean to it hurt us and everything around us. Some days it’s clutch is sweet and some days it is bitter. But ones memory is always there, essential, quiet, eternal. Some days I want to talk to you so bad. I want to hear your voice. I need your words, your embrace.
— Nada Mas (via ariadavison)
