Forever

They say you forget.

When you tell them about the long nights, the early mornings, and the constant need to be “on”.

They say you forget.

When they look after your children for a while, when they spend a day or night back in their old shoes, when they hand them back to you at the end of a busy few hours.

They say you forget.

When you ask them how they did it, what helped them get through some of the hard parts, how they managed on no sleep for many years.

They say you forget.

And maybe they are right.

But I don’t want to forget.

I don’t want to forget what it was really like in the fog. I don’t want to forget how weak I felt but how strong I was.

I don’t want to forget what got me through each day and night - The type of love I want to bottle up to use later when it’s out of reach.

I don’t want to forget how simple the days could be, or how complex the emotions could feel.

They were the some of the best days of my life.

I don’t want to forget.

Even though some moments right now feel better forgotten.

I don’t want to forget.

Not the hard, the beautiful, or the mundane.

I don’t want to forget.

Even though some of it I sadly will.

I just want to remember it all forever.