Gone

It’s been years now. I remember the shock of the entire local community when they found her. I can’t say I ever really knew her or could call her a friend. I do remember her and our brief moments together though. I remember going for a pony trek around Hordnesskogen with her. We must have been 13 or 14. I remember seeing her around the stables. She used to hang out a lot with a close friend of mine, someone who I was close to for a period of my life. I remember us three hanging out my friend’s house. They played guitar for me in my friend’s tiny bedroom and I remember thinking they were good. I remember her smile and her laughter. I remember that I was jealous of how big and beautiful her eyes were and how smooth and silky her hair always looked.

I know we talked about photography and horses once on Facebook. Just a little conversation. I don’t remember what was said, but I know it was nice.

I remember years later seeing her on the bus. She stepped on at Stend, I was sitting in the back. It was a beautiful day, the sun was bright, the sky was warm and blue, and the landscape a fresh green. I remember pretending not to see her, because I didn’t really know how to say hello after so many years or if we were ever close enough to validate such a moment. I’m sure she was thinking the same thing. I remember glancing over towards the front where she sat. The sun flickering on her back as the bus passed sun kissed trees. It’s weird how that moment, so irrelevant and ordinary almost gets forgotten. Suddenly it becomes one of your strongest memories that you own. The last time I saw her.

For many years that moment didn’t even matter. I ignore people that I vaguely know on the bus all the time. We all do. Suddenly the news reaches you and the memory smacks you in the forehead like a swinging brick. It’s suddenly stained with guilt and regret. Why didn’t I smile or say hello? Why does my last memory of her have to be that one.

Four years later, the memory flashes up again, unannounced, like it has several times since her passing. I panic about how long it has been since the last time the memory appeared in my thoughts. It must have been over a year.  So in the guilt I try to reassure myself I remember her sir name and her beautiful horse’s name. I have to search through Facebook to remember. Her profile is gone since last time I looked when it was all fresh and new. There are now only two photos and my friend’s post of her to jog my memory.

There’s something so horrible about people not existing anymore, but I especially can’t bear someone seizing to exist in thought too. She should be so much more than just a memory right now.

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