photograph

I’m sad you’re gone, but what really gets to me is that I can no longer recall your face, your laughs no longer echo in my ears, and your scent has long abandoned the pillows. While remembering you is a torture, forgetting you doesn’t relieve me. You've been gone for years now, decades if you count how it really felt for me. But you remain, in a fading photograph of happier times, in a memory that refuses to die.