I don't remember all that much

When I think of it honestly I know that my memory of those six months are all wrong. No doubt several bits of cheap novels, B-movies and music videos have been spliced into my head to create a version of how it was. But that was not how it was. If I could see it clearly, if I could remember the bad as well as the good-I know I could see why it ended and why it could not last. With objectivity I could discern the decay (which must have been there from the start).

Instead of clarity, though, what I have is background music on the radio that sends me back there and fuzzy photographs in my head. A second hand memory of confusing road trips and funnel cakes. Powdered sugar poured into a cup for eating (drinking?) in the car. A jacket that held cough drops, an extra set of keys and Garfield stickers. For no particular reason. I only remember details, I forgot the main plot.