Even as I was living it, I knew that day would be one I wanted to remember. I drank you in with my eyes, savouring each pixel. I tried to record every hesitation and punctuation, every word being slowly etched in my mind. Even as I was living it, I was recalling a memory. I let everything else melt away; the excess data. I wanted to slow down every second, to breath in your presence, to file away what it felt like, for later.
Months and months, and even years later, however, that day seems to have slipped from my grasp. Maybe what we deem to be significant is rarely so. Or maybe it was a sign, of things yet to come.
A languid, washed out amalgamation of sounds and pictures is all that remains. The lines blurred and the noises warped, making me wonder if it ever was. Or was it what it feels like; a bittersweet reverie.