//If I lose myself tonight, it'll be by your side//
I guess we did lose ourselves, just not by each other's sides. I guess that's alright. And to be honest, I guess it was for the best that we chose ourselves over each other - you know how they say about when you can't grow to love yourself, you hardly have enough love to give anyone else. And where there's no love, there's no respect, and I certainly wouldn't want to lose my respect for you, and I hope you didn't lose it yet too.
Did we have a future? Maybe we did - who knows? Maybe we would have ended up building a house just like the one we drooled at, right across the zoo, with a tree-house, a swimming pool and five dogs. But maybe we didn't. Maybe 18 years down the line you'd have become tired of how lazy I am and I'd be detesting you for each time you smoked right in my face, so we'd have driven each other nuts to the point of pulling out our hair. You see, you never exactly how you'll end up to be until you actually reach that point in time. And that time wasn't meant to be for us .
You know how I always said that it's easy to hate Clementine, and easier to stand up for Joel and you always had that puzzled look on your face because you never understood it? All Clementine wanted was to be by herself, but all Joel wanted was to run after her, because there was love. But when did love claim anyone's freedom? Or is it an underlying clause that everyone fails to read? Between all your missed Top Gear episodes and all my missed Studio Ghibli movies, although we found our common Omeleto on YouTube, God knows how you silently craved to cheer up with an episode of a road trip across Utah in a Shelby Mustang and how I'd have traded my soul to have just one silent night to myself bingeing Spirited Away for the 11th time. But I guess we found our happy little world watching the story of a gentleman on a date being met with an unusual request. Did I miss the freedom? Maybe a little bit. Nothing that your cozy hug couldn't fix.
When people say time fixes things, it's just a half-assed way of escaping from reality. It's practically impossible for someone to snap out of memories with the blink of an eye, unless of course it's a case of anterograde amnesia. What I have learned is that no amount of closure can pull you away from memories etched in the mind. Probably that's the reason why every time I hear someone cracking their fingers, I go back to that one time when you cracked your fingers so hard that you fractured your right index finger. And probably every time you come across someone who takes hot showers even in summer, you'll end up thinking about me.
Do I want to get rid of your memories? But aren't they the only portal that get me through to you? Do you want to forget my existence? I get that I've been dead for a while now and there's no use crying over spilt milk, oops, I mean a dead body. But will you eventually forget me? No hard feelings if you do, because you'll eventually die too.
Love, Lazy Butt