Do You Remember?

Do you remember the words we spoke, the times we shared? 1

The gentle breeze caressing our hair as we lay in silence atop that hill? 2

We were simple villagers, you and I…3

Once, so many years ago...4

Sometimes, I wonder if we should’ve stayed in the village, amidst the winding dirt roads and worn stone houses. But I…I was impatient, impatient to leave and see the world, to go out and become more than a mere farmer. I thought you would understand. Out of all people, you were the only one who understood me.5

I was wrong…6

I still remember those last moments we spent together, walking home from the neighboring town. It was dusk, and the stormy gray sky was fringed with a fiery orange that cast the village in a deep crimson glow. I’d cut my hair earlier that day, but you still wore yours long – tied back with that braided leather cord you’d stolen from me. Do you remember? The houses were but silhouettes against the setting sun, and tendrils of mist rose from the ground, twisting their fragile forms around us. And as we walked, it seemed to me that the sky grew darker, and the clouds, denser – as if the world itself was set against us.7

Sometimes I wonder if there was anything I could have done…8

But I remember the day I returned to the village. I thought – foolishly – that everything would’ve stayed the same. But you had changed…I had changed. I…nay, we were both selfish…9

You were distant, cold, uncaring. But so, too, was I. Nothing could have brought us together then…our worlds were too different, our paths already too divided from each other…10

But sometimes…sometimes when I watch the sun set on the horizon, I remember the times…11

when we were friends.12