You just kinda forget, sometimes. The good and the bad. Sometimes your brain allows things to slip slide beneath the surface, allows you to go through your life unconcerned, untroubled by the things you forgot to remember.
Course, then, you forget to remember to forget and it’s like tripping over in your dreams, gut shot of adrenaline and the futile drum of feet against mattress, blown back years and any number of steps ‘cos corner-caught windows are that certain shade of blue.
But it works both ways, 'cos you can’t think about the good at all hours of the day or what the hell else would you get done? So there’s that sudden gut shot only this time it’s warm, impossible, stomach punch awareness 'cos of how beautiful he is when he smiles. He’s beautiful when he smiles.
And it feels like a secret, like a rediscovery, like the world is new every time he pushes his hand through his long damned hair and your world tilts a little on its axis. Like the exact colour of his eyes is some kinda revelation.
So you’ll take the blue, and the moment of terror, 'cos your brain working this way lets you remember you love him every day like it’s new.