By: Sophie Ma

Never forget me.

Never, never, never, never.

Sitting on the front porch, I let my eyes close. I let myself fall back into the past, let everything else blur. Just for a moment. The cool breeze was comforting, the sunset beautiful, but I couldn’t get myself to appreciate it.

I could still remember those days so clearly, could still remember the sound of the laughter. Part of me was still there, still laughing with them. Still in their presence.

Emptiness, that is what I felt. Such hollow regret that I hadn’t cherished those moments more. Those hours I had thought were long, but had passed so fast. One night but a thousand memories made.

Leaving had me wishing things were different, that I could stay there forever. Inside the little cottage, the warm lights, the couches, the haven. A place filled with such comfort and solace. How I missed that feeling of bliss security. A place where I could be me, a place I felt home. A place filled with so many conversations, so many memories, so many hours that felt like lifetimes and seconds at the same time.

The way they talked, the way they had shared thoughts so openly. Nothing I could say could ever have been wrong. Yet all I could think about was how much better those moments could have been. If only I had spent more of my time with them, more of my limited time doing meaningful things. Better the pain of exhaustion than the endless pang of regret.

“Better to have been there and life with regrets than to have never

been there” people had told me. And it was true, but that didn’t stop the wishing and remorse that dug in my chest like knives. The part of me that would do anything to be back in those moments. The wish that I had been better, that I had cherished and loved them better.

Before they left. Before life seemed to lose its meaning and my days fell apart. When I’d thought of my days without them and wondered what I would do. Who would I be when I’d lost half my life? Would I resent the short amount of time I’d had? Would I love those moments and carry them with me? Or would I learn to forget, to live another life?

My thoughts seemed to be a never ending cycle of gratefulness, wishful thinking, regret, and then pain. Pain of being alone and fear of being alone. And yet nothing would make it better. Nothing ever brought the same joy and mindless laughter to me.

It felt like a pit in my stomach, a weight that would never lift, that had

me pining those moments. A dot of dust on a plain of solid white, one that never left. But part of me would never let myself forget or resent those moments. Never would I have changed it in a thousand lifetimes, despite the regrets.

Sometimes I wondered what would’ve happened if I never said goodbye. If I’d never left, if I’d clung to them and never let go. If I’d kept them with me. But it could never have happened, even though I wished it had every day. Only one comfort came from it: knowing I would never forget.

-Cherish the moments because they only ever happen once-