. I forget little things at first—where I left my shoes, if I fed the dog. But sometimes I forget big things too, The NIA getting worse, Like where we met. Or what song was playing when I first kissed you. And when I forget those things, I start to think… maybe I’m losing myself

But I remember how your hands feel when they’re holding my face. I remember that. I remember the sound of your voice when you’re reading something out loud. I remember how you looked the night we danced in the dark.