Fire

I can't remember how many times we hiked that same hill, or watched the sun set across the mountains. I can't remember how many times you fell asleep in my car on the ride home. 

I can't remember specific thoughts or even specific conversations. Not one stands out in my memory as something significant or great. 

I can't recall the money spent or the minutes past, Or dates or anniversaries that have past. I don't know the stats or the facts. 

But I can remember the feelings. 

I can remember the laughs and the cries. 

I can remember the feeling of being alive again. The feeling of a heart that not only beat in my chest but a heart that let out feelings. 

I can remember the way the light from the fire rolled across your face and the cracking of the burnt wood. The way your smell mixed with the smoke of the fire. And the way your eyes seemed to get brighter at night. 

I can remember you. You are just a memory now. That's what makes my heart hurt the most.