late nights and loud fights
it's all just a blur

12:10 a.m. | 2005-11-27
You Don't Know Me

I often wonder if people remember things like I do.

Not in the exact way that I do, but rather in the manner that I do.

For example, I remember his first smile towards me. I remember what color his shirt was and how he tucked it into his slacks. I remember his computer and his laugh and how he held his arms around his knees and told me he was sorry that he just couldn't open up.

I remember that his first words to me were, "do I smell?" I remember giggling and responding. I remember every moment that lead to us being best friends.

I remember when she and I would wear those pink and blue dresses and had matching hand bags (the term matching being used lightly). I remember putting on plays for the next door neighbors and I remember coming to tears when she drove off.

I remember what it felt like and the look on his face when it was apparent that he didn't remember who I was. One year displaced from his classroom (of 17) and he didn't recognize me. I remember the tears in my eyes as I drove away from 4 years of my life.

I could go into ridiculous detail (his belt was black and had a very clean cut crisp silver clasp on it, and his shoes were well polished and now that I think about it, too large for his feet).

It makes me wonder that if people remember the first time they met me. Do they think of the fondness of my smile, or the glint in my eye, or the way I laughed? Do they remember my hair color or anything of what I said?

I have a feeling they don't. I have a feeling so few people care about that moment that even fewer of them have it in their memory.

I remember the arthritis in his knees, I remember the duct tape we wrapped around the trombone, I remember the sticky notes on his desk, I remember the pattern of the tiles, I remember the way she always parted her hair on her left, I remember how to navigate the parking lot, I remember what my first bike looked like, I remember rollerblades, I remember curling over in that bed and screaming in pain, I remember how bitter they were and I know how bitter I am.

I just feel like this is something I do for everyone. I feel like I give everyone a spot in my heart and mind and I don't get that reciprocated from anyone else.

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