I forgot you once called here home
I’ve been told that my memory does not retain information. I forget things about people, like their birthdays and anniversaries. While I agree with that sentiment, it was not always so.
I had a brilliant mind, and although vague, I could recall remembering every little detail about you; like your brother’s favourite meal, the name of your pet hen, and the day you resumed secondary school.
I wrote down every detail about you, on parchments and sealed them in a chest stored safely in my heart. I would go to it on days when I wanted to curate gifts that only you could use and find meaning to. I would go to it on days when I wanted to create a world littered with totems of your love.
It feels like a lifetime ago, I could hardly remember what your face looked like. I buried the chest, and I did not leave a mark to remember it by. The world I built for you has collapsed and there are no trinkets of remembrance.
On most days, I forgot you were ever here. Your paint on the wall dried and faded and I couldn’t tell if it was once purple or pink. Your ghost did not haunt this house anymore.
I was amazed it came down to that. I thought you’d always leave a scar in my heart but for a while, I couldn’t trace where the wound once was.
Last night I needed to get some money I stored away; Valentine’s is close and I might get a date. I’m unsure about one, but I need cash to hold, just in case. I’ve been finding it hard to do that ever since you left.
Letting someone into my life has been a chore; one I want no part in. As I was about to withdraw, it asked for the answer to my secret question, “Who is your current crush?”
At first, I said nobody. But the doors started to open, and the map of my treasure revealed itself. Your face clouded my mind and I remembered you like pink.
It started to come back to me–the symphony of your voice, the way your smile eclipses the beauty of the moon, and how everything about you shows the hand of God in the affairs of men. I fell on my knees with tears gliding down my cheeks, these things I repressed are now finally free; the pain commanded I take a look at it, and nostalgia plays its tricks on me. I’ve been up since last night, and memories play in my head.
Perhaps I retain too much that I forget.
I saved my money for rainy days and forgot I kept you as the key. How many more things have I secured with your name as the safety net? It was first my heart, then my money, I wonder what part of my life still orbits around you unknowingly. I can’t bring myself to type your name in; I fear that would open another layer of truth I’m happy to forget.
I’m Seuncaleb, Omo ìfẹ́, and these words are meant to be felt. I’m writing a book; if you want to be first to get the link to preorder fill out this link
