Alternately titled, “It Takes Two to Make a Thing Go Right.”
My memory is becoming nonexistent, the result I think of a steady diet of IGNORE and DISTRACT. But the one moment I shall likely remember always is how we felt, you and I both, riding the elevator first floor to fourth, the silence, the chill, the budding hatred that would end up separating and tying us together for just about ever. I know you thought about me last weekend, that you couldn’t help it really, but did you know that I didn’t think about you once? Like, at all? It’s something I’ve gotten inordinately adept at, striking the match and utterly obliterating everything preceding this right here, this one second. From this vantage the horizon is infinite; scorched earth seems the way to go, and all these tiny heartbreaks from that elevator ride on are nothing but dust. And yeah, I suppose there’s something infinitely sad about losing all those memories I so painfully earned, about losing the capacity to be sad really, because what is joy uncontrasted? I don’t know. And if I ever work that out, it will quickly be forgotten.