Every memory is a story that you can look back on to elicit a certain emotion.  Typically we try to remember the happy ones the most, but there are all sorts that we hang on to for different reasons.

What happens though, when a memory is so good, eliciting joy at the slightest recollection, but the ending of that memory doesn’t make any sense to the rest of it?  The ending brings tears, but every other moment makes you happy.  The kind of memory you want to hold on to, but requires you to hurt to see it through.

I felt it come on so strong.

The start of something meant to last long.

But my intuition failed me that day.

Failed me in the very worst way.

It seemed the start of a memory so serene.

A memory I remember from the very first scene.

But it seems what follows is stuck on repeat.

A replay of what happened, waiting for an end it doesn’t meet.

Stuck waiting for the next chapter of the book.

The pages are missing, it seems they were took.

Where it left me, in my mind it doesn’t seem believable.

Ended prematurely, in a way so inconceivable.

Left wondering why my heart sees something that may never be.

Waiting for the rest of a memory it may never see.

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