I am afraid I am here again, but yet I am not afraid of Moi, rather very delighted to see Moi again. A smile, a hug and after a pat on the back, Moi said, “I am afraid of time, I am afraid of what it can do to you. Will you ever remember I said these things to you? Those moments when it was just me [Moi] and you against your own self?”
My fear is that you’ll get so old you’ll never remember the days of your youth, the days we were alone together. Yet I am anxious to see you grow old because I want to see how much you’ll remember…then you’ll realise what was truly important even to your own brain, even in old age.
My fear is that you may never remember the good times.
I fear I’ll get things so wrong that nothing was ever right.
I fear I’ll make you cry so hard that there was never a moment you smiled.
I fear I’ll dream so much that life becomes too short.
My fear is that you’ll come to despise and hate me so much that love laughs and says, “Aha, I told you I was never there.”
My fear is that your feet will become so dry you will never recall how I creamed them.
My fear is that I myself will become so lonely I forget I ever had company.
My fear is that I’ll stay alive too long in this world that I’ll lose faith in the beautiful things to come.
My fear is that you’ll catch me smiling and you’ll fail to realise that I’ve been crying most of my life.
I fear I’ll sound too complicated that you’ll never agree you did understand me, most of the time
My fear is that we’ll grow so apart that you’ll become convinced that we were never meant to be.
My fear is that the [your] walls which you built will become so dirty you’ll cease to recall how I painted them with beautiful colours.
My fear is that you’ll pray so loud you fail to hear that I have the answers, moreso you fail to give me the answers you have to my own prayers
My fear is that this light will get so bright, no I won’t forget darkness, I will only crave for it, for I and you have become men [migraineurs] who for many years now the light has been trying to kill us.
Even when the rain beats on you so much, I fear our umbrella must have been lost.
Memories fade, yet your image in my mirror, the broken mirror, is all I can still see… My fear is that my real self is locked in your own mirror, waiting to be free.
Above all, my fear is that you will not remember my fears.