It’s not that I remember you all the time. I don’t. I have moved on in life. I don’t think of you every waking hour, I don’t think of you every morning as the sun rises, or every evening as the sun sets. I don’t think of you at dawn or at dusk. There is no memory of you that surprises me on a normal day, as it leaps into my mind. No voice, no image, no sound that suddenly makes me think about you.
I do not have these memories, because I simply don’t. Because you were the perfect illusion. You made me dream about you, made me change for you and more than anything, you made me hope for you. And then, you, the illusion, Maya, you never came.
Yet on an off chance, I remember you. More so in April and in November. In November because you were ‘to be’ in this month. In April because you decided not to be. But apart from that, I remember you on and off. And when that happens, I take your memory from where it lies, far away in my heart, and I caress it, ever so gently as I always pictured I would when you came. And then I kiss your memory, a soft tender kiss, and put you back far away, in my heart.