One-Hundred Days

I have a memory of you and I standing together, with awkward smiles and glances, watching the people around us move and entertain the masses. We had no idea who the other was, and you had walked around asking if anyone knew who I was. I was unknown though, staying hidden behind a face and a name unfamiliar except to a few.
I have another memory of seeing you again, although I didn't recognize you in the slightest. It was only a few months after we had first saw each other, but my memory is never kind to faces and names. I have a memory of my heart beating in my chest so hard I was afraid it would drop to my feet. I stayed inside of the corner, alone, different from that night you had first met me. I was waiting for someone, and you weren't that person, unlike all of the other times after that night where I would always be waiting for you and only you.

I constantly have a memory of you or me or countless other people, a memory I didn't even know I remembered, find it's way into my thoughts or my dreams. A memory such as one of you and me, it crawls into my dreams and leaves me shaking and crying when I open my eyes. I lay in my bed, curled beneath the comforter, with my eyes open staring into darkness, listening to my own breathing and the overwhelming silence that I can feel clawing at my covered skin. I keep my eyes open until the memory is gone and I can finally fall back asleep.

And sometimes, I have a memory that makes my heart ache more than it has in a hundred years, and I feel like the struggle it's going through just to beat could reach into my throat and strangle me where I stand.

I hate these memories, of you and I, or of just you or of anyone else.
I hate the feeling in my chest they cause, and I hate the fact that this has never happened with someone like it has with you.

But maybe one day I won't feel an awkward knot in my chest when I hear those songs or go to the places where we spent our days. Maybe one day I'll be able to drive through my neighbourhood and not point out where we walked along the sidewalk and constantly think of seeing you again. Maybe with time I'll forget those days completely, forget everything that ever happened between you and I, and even the things that never did. Maybe one day I'll be able to keep my heart in check when I walk down familiar streets, and keep my mind from wandering along to those thoughts of the days when we were fine.

Maybe one day I'll forget the feeling of seeing people you know become people you knew, and maybe one day I'll forget how I had wanted something to happen between us more than anything. Maybe one day I'll forget sitting with you, watching the people in front of mesmerize the hundreds of eyes around us. Maybe one day I'll forget trusting you and talking to you until we both fell asleep at six in the morning. Maybe one day I'll forget how you made me feel like I was on top of the world, and how you made my one dream come true. Maybe one day I'll forget the times I lied to you and acted like someone I wasn't in hopes that something would strike the cord in you that you struck in me.

Maybe one day I'll forget these memories that plague my mind with every walk into a building or down a street. Maybe one day I'll forget that feeling of invincibility that came with the security of the future I had felt with you, no matter where we were.
Maybe one day I'll forget my dream, and maybe one day I'll forget you.

But for now, I'll keep my memories, locked inside of the treasure chest I have hidden beneath my bed, a place where all the ghosts of past days and years can seep into the sheets and itch at my skin, crawling inside to where I will never forget them, no matter how hard I try.