"Firsts are important," and who said that?
Like in astrology, in life, in love.
The first declaration of whatnots.
But as we come into reality, we kept them hidden and forbidden on this side of the town.
Because both of us decided not to talk about them anymore. But yes, they will never be forgotten.
There are three things that remind me of you--
no, four things that I like to recall, for the sake of:
One, the plank.
It was raining then and you were the hero of the day. You said I should cross first.
Eventually, the plank was made into a bridge. You said, we'll cross it when we get there.
But before it happens, somebody decided to burn it.
Two, your perfume. It was the wormhole of my musings that short-circuited my entire psychology. Sometimes, I can still smell you in the sea of people but it attracts me less now.
Three, that damp and dreary Friday night. The affirmation of love that broke me into tears. But your words pulled it through and eventually, the rest of the days were ours.
Four, fireworks. A spectacular display of events under the glowing sky of December. It was like unto the movies and we were happy because again, it was ours. So happy that we had to say our year-end goodbyes.
Four and a hundred more. Maybe eight and a thousand.
"Remember 8 is forever," you said that.
But, dear, nothing on earth is.
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