Sometimes I have the most vivid memories of time we didn't actually spend together. I can recall spending many balmy nights with you wandering vacant inner-city streets, dissecting our favourite songs while dreaming of writing our own. Getting snacks from servos tinted neon pink and blue. Things you do while you're young and broke but still believe the world is vast and full of possibility and the only thing keeping you from your dreams is a bit of time and patience.
The adventures feel so tangible; I can orient myself in that world in the same way you come to know the landscape of a videogame - but also murky in the same way you forget what it was like to spend day in day out at an old job, with only a couple of distinct days standing out as lasting impressions of the whole.
I'm still in awe of the heightened sense of emotion and inspiration I felt in that period of time and I've yet to feel anything as intensely since. We really caught lightning in a bottle, and it's a feeling I could never sell.
And if I could have it to do again, I would make sure it never ended.
