I forgot how to love for a while – something you think you have no control over is swept away as a defence, barred at the gates, not allowed to enter.

Sitting, staring deep into eyes full of crystals, I remembered again, and forgot everything. Afterwards, I felt whole, but had forgotten who that whole was.

I forgot myself for a while – lost in a world of someone else’s thoughts and aspirations… both fascinating and horrifying, a world where everything is different – wrong and right at the same time. I remembered who I was just in time, but I forgot who I was trying to be – saved myself but lost who I might have become.

I forget all of this now, struggling to remember my new life as it moves forward – overwriting the past, seeing its words fade like a sun-bleached manuscript. But the words are still there, the old still barely decipherable beneath the new.

Remembering to forget is the hardest part of forgetting.