"It’s been years and years," I said, and I'm not sure why I said that, since it had really only been hours.

"Everything is relative, remember? Years are like seconds if you're looking at things from above." 

She told me that, and drew a heart on the glass with her fingertips. The strange thing about the heart was that is glowed brightly, like a red neon light, but even brighter than that, really.

 

 

 

I wondered which was the greater price to pay: not being able to forget, or not being able to remember. Both ways left you feeling a little lost, with a little part of you broken that you couldn't repair, for one reason or another.