You’re fading away.

It’s not that I’m ever going to forget your face or your voice but you’re fading away. That feeling is where the flower leaves its stem gradually.

Those memories in my head are as fresh as the first rain when it touches the soil and there is a familiar scent from the ground that reaches your nose making you feel so fresh.

It seems as if the more I try to remember your voice the more the volume goes down a notch. The more I try to remember your face the further you seem from me.

The days I don’t hear your voice or look at you, my days seem to be incomplete. My days are short and nights are longer. I’m pushing myself to forget that scent from your T-shirt when I hugged you, I’m pushing myself to forget those long conversations even when we didn’t have anything in particular to say, I’m pushing myself to forget your face when you used to get mad at me and look like a red tomato.

The toughest part is pushing myself to love me more than I love you.