One of the days, you told me that you walked until your legs felt like breaking.
And me, being the cheeky nonsense that I was, and still am, I told you to use super glue to mend.
At that point of time, super glue, I recall, was some inside joke that we shared thus I said super glue.
However, you kind of flared up and got angry at me.
And that was the first argument we ever had.
But you know what is the scariest thing?
I had no idea who you are.
Life took me by the collars and shook me rough enough that my memories are starting to be incoherent, to the point that I no longer accurately remember with who do I share certain memories with and that I mix up people.
Was it you? Or you? Or you? I cannot remember.
A single thread of my tapestry unravels, it catches and hooks unto other strands. The whole image falls apart at the seams and the colours are a whirl and a twirl.
Reds, blues, greens and grey. All a blur.
And a blur is what you are all that is left to me.