"Memory of this still reminds me of you. Memory of this still reminds me."

Fleeting. Forgotten then remembered. Capable of so much, yet seemingly weightless and lighter than moonlight. They are formed and forged without your intervention, they are fused in the depths of your deepest thoughts, there are too many to count. There are too few that last forever.

The shocks absorb the undulations of the old and beaten road beneath the car, the current flowing through the filaments below the leather-bound chair, giving warmth to our bodies, giving comfort to our fears. A sudden change from green to yellow results in a burst of supercharged acceleration where some kiss their fingers and relay that affection to the headliner for a luck they consider to be "good."

Her reaction is the same, but the gears are moving. Naturally lubricated, always in sync, and in perpetual motion she rides on. Her tan legs dangling in the saltwater surrounding her surfboard that's keeping her afloat. Buoyancy--you're doing it right. The shoreline rises & falls as she remains motionless. The current quietly dancing on the ocean floor below, admiring the view. Remnants of sand can still be found in her auburn hair. One by one the grains slide down towards her wet shoulders glistening in the summer sun Way Out in the West.

And in that moment her eyes close and she wishes August 28th, 2011 was never a day, but she can't recall many nights sweeter than the 27th. Her life forever changed, a new direction for the worse, a turn into darkness and despair. Will the light ever shine again? Will love ever come again? You can try so hard to fit the pieces that once fell apart. You can try. You can always try, but to succeed the parts must comply.

The sunset is the only sign she needs to bring herself back to her sandy home, where there are no walls, no locked doors. Around a bonfire she sits, the wind reminding her she's alive. And as the wood turns into ash, as the heat fades away, the creation of memories comes to a close. But the book isn't finished, merely a chapter. An autobiography that writes itself in a virtual world where paper & ink serve no purpose. There are no pages to flip.

The frequency of the crashing waves in sync with the rhythm of her heart, a faint echo of a dolphin momentarily wakes her from the tranquil dream occupying her thoughts. As the morning sun rises and the ambient temperature increases, the activity of the central nervous system intensifies, culminating in a sudden moment of hope and optimism. She is awake. Ready to take on the day, to take on life with all its trials & tribulations, and to reflect on the past with eyes on the future. No fear. No regrets, except one.

And when all is lost to the winds of change and time, the memory of this will still remind me of you.