she remembers when he said he’d live and die for her. she was too scared not to believe him.
she remembers when, one moment, nothing mattered, and the next moment everything did.
she remembers when life was full of joy and sadness and turbulence and experience.
she remembers living.
she remembers when it felt like it would never change. she remembers always wanting to be the same.
she doesn’t remember every single detail, every single moment, every tear and every smile. but she remembers what the moments were made of, and their existence lingers in a pretty, empty shell.
she doesn’t remember when it felt like it was enough, but she remembers the reason why.
she doesn’t remember why. but she remembers how.
she doesn’t remember when she started to forget. but somewhere along the way, she remembered to remember.