"Shhh... say nothing." She said softly, raising her fingers to his lips to prevent him from saying anything. An excuse to touch him, really, more than anything else. "Just let me sit here awhile and look at you. I want to remember. . ."
No. That isn't the sort of thing that haunts my memory. That makes me wince and gasp sharply as it flits through my mind, unwilled. Instead it's a smile. . . a nod as you pass by them in the hallway. A kind and utterly mundane, everyday word. Like 'hello'. Small things. Always the small things.
It's funny how no one says things like that anymore. Although, I'm really not convinced that anyone ever did. It sounds too corny. Too forced. Besides, whoever wants to remember things they're walking away from? I know I don't. Infact, I go through great pains to lock away those memories forever. Why should anyone else be different?