I can't remember

I'm afraid I won't remember everything that has made an impression on me.  An impact that jars my bones.  Things that have made me think and feel.  People who inspire me and make me feel alive.  Actions that bleed hope.  Songs that I listened to.  Your words you write so honestly and courageously.  I'm afraid I'm not taking the things I'm learning and living life with them in mind.

I can't take everything and store it in my brain.  In my heart.  Not in the way I want to. I'm afraid your hand prints will fade from my skin because I can't remember it all. Even though I want to.  I want to hold onto your words but I'm swinging on the monkey bars on my favorite childhood playground, my hands getting sweatier and more tense the harder I try to hang on.  It's only a matter of time until I slip and lose grip.  I can't even remember a lot of my childhood.

But I remember the essence.  And even though I can only describe it in clipped words like "happy, carefree, and naively ignorant and innocent", I remember it as something good.

I'm afraid that's not enough.  I can't think of all the specifics I need.  Although the details I remember make me smile.  They make me happy.  And then bad memories always intrude because I can't let myself enjoy the good ones long enough.  But if all I have are words I'm not completely sure are true to describe a beautiful memory I can't really remember, it's not enough.  The memory is the essence.  The memory is the truth.  The memory is the lie.  It's all three of them.  It's none of them.