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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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