You asked me if I love you.
I said that it doesn’t really matter.
Hurt, you questioned why.
I said “Because you should ask me or I should ask you —until when?”
You laughed. I was not sure if it was a nervous laugh.
You asked me a lot of questions about the past.
Some were the same questions that you have asked before.
You were reminiscing the past just as I was.
There was a time when we had our own dimension and time zone.
That area where our adult self met with our young self.
Having that kind of special relationship made me ecstatic.
That kind of relationship when only our past life was committed
There were days when reality reminded us that the past that we had was not really ours to begin with.
There was silence in between conversations.
We created another memory of each other; erasing the ones we had in the past.
But this memory was the final among the happy memories that we had.
Indeed, moments slip away, but not the memories.