I look back through the photographs. The ones of the BBQ. Where I stepped to one side, and captured the memories nobody wanted to forget.
Everyone, drenched, clothes plastered to their skin.
The laughter, the fun.
Now there is a pain. Small, unnoticed.
A few days after, some of us cried. The fear, the fear of letting go. It will fade away slowly, what you don't want to lose will disappear from your mind.
It will be forgotten.
And one day you meet at the bus stop, and no more than a nod.
What we want to do, need to do.
To forget.
We are worlds apart, and will always be.
But not everyone makes it across.
And those will be with you.
Only those.