Memories. Such a fundamental part of our existence yet our relationship with them can often be so twisted and toxic and utterly heartbreaking.
Every time I remember one, tiny little parts change.. just ever so slightly.

The problem I encounter with memories is that I always try and recreate them on how I want them to exist.
If I ever want to relay a happy memory, I often forget anything negative that exists around its original existence. I perhaps forget how I had felt leading up to that moment. I always try and blur out any little glimpses of unhappiness. I make excuses for what actually happened and try and paint this little perfect picture.

My fondest memories are of us talking until midnight by a fire with a bottle of wine.
Of us cycling through the dunes, getting stuck in the sand and eating the same meal in front of the same series.
Of us waking up and us finding any excuse to wait just five more minutes before having to face the world. Of you spending hours doing the same thing over and over again.

Of us.

Of us walking for hours and finding solitude in silence.

Of me walking for hours and miles and finding peace in my footsteps.

Of you reading by a fire and occasionally looking up and sharing a smile over a sentence.

Of my first wave. The celebration of everything you have ever taught me.

Of me learning how to just how celebrate being alone. Of replacing loneliness with stillness.

Look how much we have all taught each other.
And what we have taught ourselves.

Just look how far we have come.