apparently it didn't take much
a small break, a trip out west
a different zip code, and it was all new
clean and new, just like that
if there was remorse or regret, it wasn't apparent
my letter went unanswered and second hand phone calls went unreturned
it was like I was here, she was there and that was it.
my suffering, my self pity were irrelevant to her
as it would be for me, six months later.

but the memories did not just fade away
cold coffee mugs still meant Sunday afternoons
faded gray sweatshirts still meant the zoo, and were therefore off limits
I gave up Van Morrison for five years

my memory is a little too sturdy, but as I get older, it is getting shaky.

Maybe then I will know what it is like to forget so quickly.

A memory (in the collective, not individual, sense) which is easily erased or scrambled by a good shake. Think of Neil Gaiman's Delirium, or a dumb blonde, or an old TRS-80 computer.

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