You exist in my memories in fragments.
Like the song your mother would sing, never entirely.
You never knew the name, just the disjointed lyrics that,
somehow, just made sense.
And, sometimes you would hear the same tune from a
stranger's lips and wonder if your mother knew them and
if they knew what the song is called.
But you forget about it, like you forget the joke you
couldn't stop laughing at. It's not present in your
consciousness unless someone asks you about it.
But then one morning you wake up humming the same
tune. The disjointed lyrics tumbling from your mouth, as
if they were written by you, just like that. Not meant to be complete.
But making sense the way they are.
Do you also wonder if the lyrics missing from your
memory are present in someone else's? But then isn't
everyone missing their lyrics? Like John Green said- "To
be alive is to be missing."
And this is what we are missing, the little pieces we left
in someone we forgot to collect. The fragments of our
being became a part of theirs. Maybe we are all made up
of fragments from people we don't remember. We hold
the lyrics they are missing. And they are holding ours.
We are never really complete, but still a whole.
Maybe, we are built to be complete in our
incompleteness?
Or maybe it's all about finding someone who completes
all your lyrics and you complete theirs and holding on to
them as long as you can.
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