Memory of You
Essay by: iamme1
“Do you remember him?” she asked me. The question almost made me laugh. The better question would be more like: how could I forget him? I hadn’t seen him in years but the memory of him lived in me. But of course she didn’t know that. Nobody did.
It was all hidden. Our feelings for each other were unknown to anyone. We had kept it a secret. And it’s weird to me when people bring him up. They act like they know him so well. But, in reality, they didn’t.
They think I know so little about him but that’s not true. Yet, in another way, I guess you can say that I didn’t know him that well either. When I think about him, it makes me analyze everything. The truth is nobody really knows anybody. I can’t read your mind and you can’t read mine. But that’s the funny thing about what I had with him. In a way, I could read his mind. And he could read mine. I thought about him all the time and I knew he thought about me too. There was a connection between us. And, yet, there were still things that we hid from each other. I didn’t really let him see the whole me and he did the same. We put up a facade to make ourselves seem perfect to one another. I knew him in a superficial way.
When I first met him, I didn’t think much of him. He always acted like he wanted to get to know me and I just thought he was playing games with me. That he was silly. But then, one day, it all changed. It was like lightning struck and he was all I could think about. And I kept it to myself. There was no screaming from the rooftops that I was in love or anything like that.
And now, when I hear people bring him up in conversation, I feel sad. Because they know him and I don’t anymore. Was I that insignificant to him? Did it all mean nothing to him? I suppose that he and I didn’t have much in common. There wasn’t much to talk about. But when I hear of his closeness to other women it just hurts for some reason.
And I wonder if I will ever get back to my old self. The one I was before I met him. Or will I spend the rest of my life thinking of him and never getting over him? It sounds ridiculous but I just can’t seem to forget him. And that’s why it makes me laugh when people ask if I remember him. Because that’s the one thing I want more than anything: to forget him.
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