“...and the flowers still grow, but they don’t smell as sweet as they did when you picked them for me…”
Sometimes it feels as if every person I’ve ever met has taken up permanent residence in my brain. And the more people I meet, the more full that brainspace becomes, and lately I’ve been feeling like I can’t possibly fit any more three-dimensional humans inside. But I can’t let anyone go. I can’t lose track of a single soul. And so I flip through them like a Rolodex, pausing for a moment on each one, to try to hold my fingers as tightly together as I can so nothing slips through… and I want to write them all letters, just to let them know I still think of them and I remember our time together. But there’s one question I’d never dare ask of them…