When memory becomes a treasure.

I want you to remember me curled up, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and tracing maps across your skin. Remember me laughing at your jokes, even the stupid ones. Remember me in hysterics for absolutely no reason and in tears because one time you made me so sad neither of us thought I’d recover. Remember me brave; remember me scared and gentle and delicate and breakable - only for you though, only for you.

Remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember all the firsts and how they were so delightful we went back for seconds and thirds and fourths. If it’s any consolation I allowed myself to have them too. 

If it comes to it I don’t want you to remember the ending. 

Remember the beginning. Remember the first time you knew.