So Before I End My Day, Remember

Once again, I make a pause to take all the information in.

I know that, on the last page, I wrote that I wouldn't forget anything that happened between us.
But I did.
I forgot, almost everything about the last entry.
I know I promised I would not forget, I know that it wasn’t supposed to happen, but I always knew that, eventually, I would forget.

Maybe that is the reason I felt so compelled to write in this, I was in such a rush to put all of our memories out, in ink, on the soft creamy pages of the little book, that I remembered every single detail of every single moment we spent together, every single moment I spent thinking about you.
Also, I think wrote in this notebook, not only so I could spread our story to anyone that wants to hear it, but also because it would help me remember.
To help me recollect some events that seemed to slip from my memory, not you, because it’s a fact of life and more than obvious, that I can’t forget you.

For example, I didn’t remember the nervousism I felt because I was going to see you and when I finally was near you, how even in the beginning you always acted so lovingly towards me that I always felt I didn’t deserve it (I still think I didn’t deserve your love), how distant you seemed to be in the car, how naïve I was for not seeing that something was wrong, that under all that makeup were the evidences of a lifetime of abuse.
I didn’t remember how almost, irreparably broken you seemed to be.
How irreparably broken you were indeed.

The smile that never seemed to quite reach your eyes, the blank stare you sometimes would where, the happy façade you liked to keep up so people wouldn’t worry.
I never noticed any of that until that awful and blissful night, when I found out more about your secrets, your life.

After that, you apparently were getting better.
To most people you really seemed to be, but please notice how I say apparently, because you never got better, you always hid under veils of fake happiness and secretly induced, chemical highs.
Later in our relationship I was able to read you like a book (mind the irony of the present situation), you couldn’t lie to me.

I reckon you never lied to me; maybe you might have omitted something when we firstly met and when we began dating, but afterwards you told me that you believed that it was better for me I didn’t knew everything about you, the reason being the fear you felt because you thought I would have left you if I knew your secrets, the reasons behind your behavior.

You told them to me, eventually.
I didn’t left.
I’m still here.

With me you were the real Ian, with you I was the real Kyle.

Now that you are gone, I’m nobody, there is no me because there is no you around.
I am nothing but a shadow.

I am nothing.

We were eachother’s crutches; if one fell the other immediately went to rescue the wounded one.
We made the other happy, we made eachother’s life worth living.
Through thick and thin we always remained together, until you left…

I lit up my cigarette laced with menthol. I take a drag before finally letting my eyes dart from the light blue horizon in front to the bright blue book on my lap.

With the cigarette hanging from my mouth, I pick the book up and start to read.
I continue my journey to remember.