“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.”

I remember four boys
willing to take in a lost kid.
I remember meeting him
in the middle of a winter night.
I remember meeting him
when we got lost among the rocks.
I remember meeting him
in an island bakery.
I remember meeting him
when I tripped into his life.

I remember that first gathering,
how awkward and nervous I was.
I remember not wanting to speak
for fear of ruining everything.
I remember mad libs in the dark,
how I never knew my turn.
I remember telling them my age,
for I am but a child in this world.
I remember talks under the stars,
how we were never tired yet.

I remember hearing his voice
and being surprised by him.
I remember adventures in the trees,
learning what it means to be mortal.
I remember learning his language
and completely butchering it.
I remember keeping him up,
how he claimed to never be tired.
I remember the sound of his voice
and the color of his eyes.

I remember his unique accent
and how mesmerized I was.
I remember the forbidden mine
that echoed with our laughter.
I remember the stories he told
and the memories he shared.
I remember hearing his dream,
how he wants to change the world.
I remember the way he spoke
and the hope he gave me.

I remember being nervous around him
and not wanting to mess up.
I remember when he called me friend,
how happy and proud I felt.
I remember his bad jokes
and the chaos he caused.
I remember his description of me,
how beautifully he thought of me.
I remember the strength in his words
and the safety I felt in them.

I remember how he stumbled
and how embarrassed he was.
I remember complimenting him,
how flushed his cheeks got.
I remember his infectious laugh
and the brilliant smile that joined it.
I remember how he treated everyone,
how he made all of them feel loved.
I remember seeing the universe in his eyes
and finally feeling free.

I remember hearing his voice
and how it shook with fear.
I remember his unique accent
and how choked up it was.
I remember him being nervous
and not wanting to slip up.
I remember how he stumbled
and how terrified he was.

I remember my skin
and all the blood it let.
I remember the pain,
how I went numb.
I remember the tears
and how they stung.
I remember my breaths
and my struggling lungs.
I remember it wasn’t enough,
that there had to be more.

I remembered my boys.

I remembered their fear filled eyes.
I remembered their tear-stained cheeks.
I remembered their hitching breaths.
I remembered their shaking voices.
I remembered their worrying hands.

I remembered.

I remembered
I needed them.

I remembered
They needed me.

I remembered my family.

I remembered
I couldn’t leave them.

I remembered to live.