Fragments. All I have are fragments. Broken pieces of memories float around my mind as I try to grab them. They slip out of my hands like that one firefly that I was never able to capture in my grasp.

Reaching out to try one more time. When I touch my memories once more, they're almost gone. I want to write them down so I can never forget them but the words evade me. I can't put words to the highs and lows. They can't describe the pain and heartbreak I've endured. They also can't narrate the love and joy I've encountered.

The last thing I want to do is forget. I don't want to forget the tree house by the lake or all of the stars I saw laying on the dock.

But most of all I don't want to forget him. Him and his perfectly messed up hair. Him and his lopsided smile. Him and his... oh come one now what else did he have?

That's what I fear most in life, forgetting. Not all people get to live a whole life and most who do don't remember most of it.

My memories feel like photographs faded by time. Slowing curling in at the edges.