It’s been seven months or thirteen
I can’t trace back
Just like my fingers can’t trace back
To the dent on your nose.
I don’t remember anymore
The bass in your voice
Or the difference between your silence and pause.
Did you smell a particular way?
I remember the brown hoodie though
I only forget to wear it anymore.
And the depth and width of our conversations
But nothing about them.
I remember not liking each other’s playlists
But liking each other enough to let both play regardless.
I remember you run
I just choose to forget from what all.
I noticed you were finally fading away
Until your name flashed on my phone.
I would have asked about your day
But what if it didn’t end up in cache memory
I wondered then.
Now I wonder
If I will miss missing you
That is, if I don’t forget to.
Moulika Danak is an advertising professional who writes for a living and reads to escape the same.