The hardest part isn't forgetting you. It's catching myself smiling because for a second, you were still the first person I wanted to tell. Then I remember, there's nowhere to send it anymore. So I keep it. The joke, you would've laughed at. The picture of the sunset. The little story, I know you would've interrupted before I could finish it. The little things that always found their way to you. I keep them. Like I've kept every conversation we never got to finish.
Mine.



































