A loop
Almost everyone that I’ve met have something that they get attached to.
Like singing their hearts out every time the radio plays a love song that’s been repeated for months.
Like pretending to listen to a music with a broken earphone to keep them from hearing things that they don’t want to hear.
Like saying goodbye to something good.
One of my earliest memories was that of you smiling.
You were looking at me with your slightly yellow teeth and your gums showing.
I remembered the corners of your lips going upward, yet your droopy eyes were telling me otherwise.
It was a smile full of sadness, and I didn’t get to ask you why.
It has always been you.
So imperfect it’s almost poetic.
It has always been with you.
My smiles in the photos.
The tears in the background.
It has always been you.
Memories.
How often are they reliable?
I wondered what was it that you were telling me, was it that you loved me?
Or was it that you’ve had enough of me, my selfishness of wanting to be loved…yet not too loved?
Some people have memories that they want to forget.
Yet the more they think of forgetting, the better they are at remembering.
Just like the people that I’ve met, I too have that something.
Something that I get attached to.
Like sitting in the backseat of the car, humming along to a song that I’ve never heard before.
Like scrolling the unread messages in my inbox without actually replying to any of them.
Like reliving my memories.
Prompt: Yesterday Once More by The Carpenters
Originally published at wordbiting.wordpress.com on September 9, 2018.

