You know I love the tiniest things about people,
I don’t remember their eye color or the fine details on the face,
I cannot describe even the faces of the closest friends I have met,

but I remember the tiniest details about how I felt when I was around them,
I remember the conversation we had years ago,
I remember how you waited for me,
or how you hugged me so tightly that it felt like
my boundaries molding into this new acceptable reality,
or how you wrote that note on my birthday, how we slept there curled across opposite ends,
I remember how you still use my phrases and my recipes,
or how you still remember to give me life updates and voice notes,
Not so much the words but the chuckles,

I don’t remember the exact conversations though,
but I remember how it felt when we went to the shore to collect sea shells and bought a book,
and had an ice cream at the old shop, how that lady curled the ribbon just for me,
I remember how you had those tears held back in your eyes,
it felt like looking into a window into your soul,
and I remember that feeling of knowing exactly how,
and what you felt at that moment,

I remember smiles, I remember long hugs,
I remember sleeping next to each other as goodbyes,
But I could never remember the exact color of your hair,
I remember when you always remembered to bring a slice of the fruit you were just eating,
Or when you accompanied me, translating everything, everywhere each day,
This is vegetarian and this is as well, I don’t remember the exact time and date or phase,
But I remember, you putting all the mushrooms on your plate, and
Remembering to bring lunch for me when I missed bringing any food,

I cannot name any of the specific places I visited in a country,
But I still remember the family who lived right across the floor, who had two kids,
And sometimes we used to bid goodbyes to each other,
I don’t remember the names, but I still remember how that old lady kissed me goodbye,
And I don’t remember her grandkids names, but I remember their smiles,

I don’t remember the days, I had worst of the memories,
They sieved through the heart, somewhere deep down, lost,
I don’t remember the harsh remarks, fights, rude faces or guilty consciences,
I don’t remember what you did wrong, but I remember my wrongs,
Even though I try to not, spend myself,
In being there so many people around but cannot help but worry, be there,
Anyways aren’t we all, just getting spent each day, being there for someone else!