Memories live on as a part of us, we can never forget them, for they are the one controlling us.

There were many times in life when we wished someone would attempt to break through our walls, regardless of how impenetrable they were just to reach the deepest space, void of anyone or anything, where we hid ourselves in.

Sometimes, walls exist so we get to see who could knock it down.

Reaching out wasn't just an act of running full speed ahead and simply extending our hands towards that someone we desired to claim as our own, disregarding the state the person was in.

No.

To really reach out means slowing down and taking in even the smallest details before filling the cracks and scars that were spreading wider all over them with love, wanting to mend them.

One thing we had always forgotten was that distance didn't mean rejection. It was never needed for us to be close to reach out. The right distance might let us see better, but if only distance itself existed, then reaching out was impossible too.

For all these years, I was completely blinded. You entrusted your heart to me, until the day it stopped beating for me.

Always; you were always beside me, though the distance between us were always growing, too. 'Always' had turned into such a bitter, bitter word.

Before long, an invisible wall stood tall between us, one that I had never tried to knock it down. Our distance never grew larger, it was kept the same.

But how could I expect the wall to tumble down, when I never even bothered to take a step closer towards it?

If I did reach out, even once, I wonder if I would notice those cracks earlier?

Then, maybe you wouldn't be broken.

Or maybe things could be mended.

Maybe you'd still be here.

Unfortunately, there was no 'maybe.'

~

Gasping for air, I came to an abrupt stop, my legs wobbling. Running after you in this aged body of mine certainly told me that time had taken its toll on me. Another step and I might just tumble down. But I couldn't afford to fall again when you were just within sight.

Tears or sweat, I wasn't sure which, but as my eyes were filled with them, they stung. You weren't far away, but appeared a blur to me.

You stood there. At the end of the road. With me on the other end. In between us were people passing by nonchalantly. They didn't know what was happening. They had no idea.

But I knew.

I knew it was you.

So in spite of my legs that were going to give up on me any second now, I took a weak step forward.

And I sprinted.

The chilly wind blew against my face, prickling but also letting an ecstatic jolt run down my body. A breath escaped my trembling lips.

I felt free.

For a moment there, the shackles seemed to have unclasped themselves off of me. Those heavy, burdening and painful weight.

I didn't know exactly what I was doing or what I desired for. I could be out of my mind, or maybe I was already insane.

But I still felt lightened of everything that were holding me down, not just from your death, but also from all these years.

Doing something without thinking, purely based on impulse was something I never would have done.

It was something different, and also something that I should have done ages ago.

Now you were just right in front of me. I finally reached you.

I caught up.

And as I was standing side by side with you, I smiled.

A small one. A genuine one. A happy one.

I smiled.

People must think what a crazy man I was. Maybe they knew who I was, and they were sympathizing me. Or maybe they thought I was just stupid.

But why should I care?

It didn't matter.

I think I lost my mind for you already, dear.

I looked to my side where you were.

You stared right ahead, and walked in a slow speed. Stray strands of hair escaped the hold of your bun. Your eyes held my attention for a long time as I was overcame with the desire of wanting you to just look at me. The fold of lines and wrinkles on your face were evident to me but it wasn't a sad thing to me.

It made me swell a little with pride, as they were the sign that you had went through so much, especially in building up and protecting our family. It showed how much you cared and loved this family, even when you had forgotten about us. And the only thing left to remind ourselves that you did in fact still remember about us, every single time when you miscalled us.

I couldn't escape the sting of pain that I knew of too well, one that accompanied the brief light feelings I had. 

After all, this was all surreal and I will end up losing this all over again. I kept on forgetting, that I shouldn't take you for granted again.

We walked in sync as silence shrouded around us. This was a silence I knew I would come to love. It was also one that I missed tremendously.

I had finally done something right. It might be wrong to everyone in this world, but I still think it was right. Because it was something I had done for you.

The wind blew again, but this time it felt more like a soft, gentle touch that almost went unnoticed. It felt like someone engulfing me into a hug. It was really vague, but I could feel the peace.

And I was happy.

For a brief moment, I was happy.

This felt like the start of how I'd be fixing everything. A sign of starting anew. And who knows if things would start to turn out better.

Happiness bubbled up inside me like a cotton candy; soft, sweet and light. Hope lit up in my heart, like a tiny particle before it spreaded slowly, but definitely growing.

I knew I didn't deserve to be happy, so even such a fleeting moment of happiness was enough. I expected the guilt and grief to return and welcome me back again soon, corrupting the little hope I had.

But that wasn't the case.

The happiness didn't just disappear.

It was completely destroyed in front of me, inside of me, and from my life. As though I had never owned or known of such a thing in my life.

You stopped and I did too.

I looked up from my feet. That was the moment happiness was utterly stolen from me.

Evans' Neurologist Center.

All of a sudden, the shackles that were holding me down returned in place. They weighed a thousand times heavier than they were in the first place.

The sweat that had dried off in the wind just seconds ago returned. Only now, cold sweat glistened on my skin as my mouth hung open in the air, unable to accept what I was seeing, remembering, and understanding.

This was the neurologist you were seeing for your dementia. This was where you were diagnosed with dementia.

This was the start of your never-ending suffering.

And also the end of my temporary happiness.

I stood there, as though I was a thousand-year tree, my roots deeply embedded into the soil.

I couldn't move.

The world spun. I felt dizzy.

My mouth felt dry and bitter. My stomach churned horribly.

My hands turned clammy. And they shook.

Lost.

I was lost.

Like you, who was also trapped in a maze all along, waiting for someone to guide you out. Though that someone never did come.

I nearly suffocated, but when you came down from the stairs that lead to the neurologist center, I could finally breathe.

Yet, a breath was all I had.

When I saw your face, I stopped breathing all together as if someone had strangled me. It felt like I just died. Even though I wished I really did.

Your face was bleak, free of every emotion. I never knew it was possible.

You used to be emotionless, and now I realized that was better than what was written across your face right now.

Your face was overflowing with emotions, bursting with such raw sorrow. I felt like it was cutting right through my soul.

For a second, I could almost see a mirror standing between us, as though I was staring at my reflection in the mirror, your eyes as lost as mine.

I didn't know.

I didn't know how much it impacted you.

I never knew.

How I wish I did.

~

The walk home was agonizingly painful.

No matter how hard it was for me, I kept reminded myself that it was a thousand fold more for you.

I imagined how you had to drag your heavy legs, slowly walking down the crowd of people that we relaughing away in a cheerful atmosphere as despair weighed you down.

I thought about how you would had felt, just letting your thoughts ran wild and control your mind, tiring you out as every second passed.

I envisioned how it felt to be completely desolated from the world.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

My steps slowed down as I let you walk in front of me. I didn't think I could walk beside you anymore. I lost the right to.

As I was about to reach out, a rush of doubt surged through me.

Could I now?

I followed behind you in silence, weighed down by guilt that had turned into an old friend of mine after the time we had spent together.

I almost fell into my own world of thoughts again, until a young pair of couple walked by.

My eyes landed on their hands. They were linked tightly together.

Look at their smiles, dear, look. We were once smiling and laughing away with our cheeks tinted a faint pink too.

The image of your expression, broken, now flashed across my eyes. It shattered the happy memories that rarely resurfaced, taking them away from me.

The couple looked at me with furrowed brows. I was staring for too long. Or maybe it was my expression. It must have been really miserable. Out of embarrassment, I quickened my steps and reached you once again, just one step behind.

As I looked up from the ground, I saw your hands, dangling in the air.

The urge to just step forward and hold your hand overcame me. My mind registered the feeling of holding it in mine.

Yet, I hesitated.

It wasn't that it was impossible for me to hold it, for it didn't really exist for me to do so now.

I held up my hands as they couldn't stop trembling.

It was because I didn't deserve to hold your hands anymore.

~

Silence.

I still didn't get how it could let me feel differently with each encounter. It hurt me. It soothed me. It pained me. It healed me.

It hurts now.

As we entered the house, you just stopped in the middle of the hallway.

You leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down to the floor.

The pain hidden in the silence had managed to find its way to wrap itself tightly around me again. Before I know it, I was in a bondage I know too well of. Like ropes that tied me down, fear seeped into my heart. Something was going terribly wrong and it terrified me to know.

You sat there on the floor, quietly, as your back faced me.

It wasn't long until your shoulders started shaking really violently.

Stunned, I stood there, letting the silence hurt me, as though it was what I deserved.

You were crying.

Tears slid down your cheeks. For some reason, I saw them as manifestation of your pain and sorrow that you were trying to rid of.

I wished they could have left you.

You didn't stop crying for half an hour. And those thirty minutes felt like thirty years. The thirty years we had been together.

My eyes were pooled with tears. I wiped them away furiously.

I couldn't cry. I shouldn't. I mustn't.

I once promised to not let any tears fall from your eyes. Your beautiful, beautiful eyes. But they fell countless times, without me knowing it.

I mustn't cry.

No. How could I, when you were hurting this much? How could I, when I was the one who broke my promises?

How could I, when I had lost everything?

I lost our memories. I lost our love. I lost myself. I lost our promise.

I lost the right to cry.

I lost you.

Drip.

I stopped wiping my eyes with the left sleeve of my shirt. Before I realized it, it was too damp to absorb anymore tears.

I held my breath, I tried not to think, and I reminded myself.

I can't cry.

Yet, my eyes never left you, and no matter what I intended to do was futile.

The tears fell uncontrollably. Like how I had fallen for you so hard, so deep thirty years back.

I fell.

And for the first time since the day you died, I cried.

I wailed silently into the palms of my hands, letting every shred of sorrow spill out of my soul, but they were some that refused to leave me, as though they had grew attached to me.

"Dear, I just want to be with you. I just want to touch you, comfort you, be there and tell you it'll be alright." I choked out like it was the hardest thing to say. "It will be alright. It will."

But really, it wouldn't. And I knew that.

I fell to my knees, disregarding the pain that came along with it, as I made my way towards you, crawling.

You were still crying. It still broke my heart seeing you cry.

You looked so small, so tiny and just so fragile.

Like a broken glass.

But I wanted to hold you.

I know your heart was bleeding all along, but could you let me bleed with you?

Please.

I wrapped my arms around your transparent body, willing myself to believe I could really hug you.

At that moment, I whispered words until I had lost count of how many times I said them.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

But I love you.

~

Later that night, I knew I wasn't able to sleep, with my stinging, sore and swollen eyes.

Instead, I tried to search for your medical report. It was in the drawer, I remember. The one that was right beside the closet. I slid the dusty, yellow-ish file held your papers out of the old and rusty drawer.

I flipped and flipped until I found the right one. The information regarding your condition.

After briefly looking through the details, I found the thing I was looking for, the date.

February 2013.

Three years ago.

Since the therapist said that your dementia spirit will live until the day you die, this meant I have only three years left with you.

Was that enough?

I didn't know.

There was just so much that I didn't know. Whether it was about you for all these years, or about you right this second. I still didn't know.

As I kept the medical report back to its original place, I was hit by realization like a bolt of lightning.

I dashed frantically towards the table beside our bed, pulling the second drawer open.

The magazine was still in there, though a bunch of new ones were stacked above it. The magazine that I was reading when you told me about your dementia.

I pulled it free from the pile of magazines and flipped through it.

My nose tingled, and I wasn't sure if it was the dust or if it was related to the lump in my throat.

April 2013.

This couldn't be.

Pieces of information and memories clicked together like a perfect fit. Everything made sense and yet, they didn't at the same time. I understood yet, I didn't.

You hid it from me for two months.

'I went to the checkup this morning,' you had said.

I finally discovered why your voice was so pained, strained and sad when you told me that.

Because you were lying.

I sat down on my bed, feeling defeated.

Confusion and hurt consumed me like a mad whirlwind.

Dear, have I become someone you couldn't trust? Someone you couldn't tell your secrets, share your sorrows to? Someone you were wary of?

I threw the magazine into the trash can, instilling my anger into it, as I decided its fate to be thrown away and erased.

My heart ached terribly.

Some things couldn't be thrown away.

Like memories.

And regrets.

--

Dedicated to StillSearchingForMe for finding the right song for Memories! It's One Love by Marianas Trench. Do check the song out because it's amazing!

Well, since this is an author's note already, might as well make it longer. I don't get this chance much, people.

Just saying that I really want to dedicate all my chapters to you amazing readers out there. You know who you are. But since I update so slow, I can't do what I want :( Please do wait for your turns XD

Thanks for the constant support! <3 I truly am grateful, and no matter how many times I said it, I still am. Love you all!