selective_nostalgia Bizzar It eludes me, how the brain chooses which memories will prevail among the masses. Which moments in time it deems important above others. And how those moments feel presently, almost dream-like - the instant that dreams fade wearily into waking reality. I can still recall the first time I ever spoke to him. For months he was an enigma, so reserved and dare I say mysterious. I remember the kitchen table, the smell of smoke, the banter of substance induced disorder in the background. I remember seeing him for the first time that night. And how it felt like it was just he and I for just a second or two. I remember feeling the exact moment that we connected, an unspoken recognition of our similarities. And you. And you. And the_not_allowed. The yearning, the wondering. And the lines. All the lines that you blurred until they were gone and long forgotten. The forbidden. The untold story. The mourning. The way I doubted my heart. All of obstacles you forced me to face. All of the walls that you helped me tear down. The hand that you held through all of the hardest moments of my life, never questioning, never doubting, never judging. The shift. The tidal wave it created. The aftermath we faced together. The deepest of fears we took on, side by side. the way you never faltered. The beauty of the waters once they calmed. The eyes you offered me when I sewed mine shut. Your brilliance. The way you fill my veins. Fill me. Feel me. The way you're always there. Always were there. No matter how far. The current that keeps my heart in rhythm. And you. 220221 what's it to you? who go blather from