Memories.

They're all we know.

 If my feet didn't ache, I could run till dawn. Tonight I wrapped my scarf around my neck and walked out the front door. I didn't know where I wanted to go, I just knew I needed space.
The night is lit with the warmth of orange street lights. Cherry blossom trees are scattered about with their flowers still awake, too mesmerised by the brilliance of the moon to steal a wink of sleep. And it is brilliant. Not a cloud in the sky to steal my attention away from it's pale glow. I shivered on the pavement with my neck craned towards the night sky. I can hear a whistle blow in the distance. The last few trains coming back from Central London filled with tired business people no doubt. I'm not a bit tired, but full awake. I carry my camera over my shoulder and test the different settings on the night sky. For an English winter it's not cold, the air sits still. Everywhere is quiet but for a few cars rushing past with their headlights blinding. And I think to myself  "if I could re-live any area of my life, which part would I choose". I had my answer before I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

None.

If I erased even a small memory, a minuscule part of my future might change. And I don't want to take that chance.

I am here now, because of you.

I have been lifted up for my worse. I have been trampled on for my better. And it is because of you that I am living up my biggest dream.


So thanks for the memories...