Sometimes things in life are a little hazy. You remember your tenth birthday, but not the taste of the cake. Nor the flicker of the candles as your breath pushed their little flames over while you made your wish. You can remember that awesome bike you got, but not the surge of energy that went through you from sitting on it for the first time, feeling as if nothing could hold you back.

You remember some things clearly. Like how his fingers felt when they roamed over your flushed skin. The creak of the bed underneath your combined weight. The hushed voices, soft moans, and tiny words of urgency you breathed, hoping his father wouldn't hear. Or the way your mother stumbled around the house, a hot frying pan in her hands as she yelled about you not finishing your dinner. How she would scowl and shake her head when you told her you learned a new word, and the way she kept telling you to stop talking like those damn wet-backs who just so happened to be your only friends.Those things you can pull out of your mind as if they happened yesterday.

But sometimes even yesterday blurs and fades into the day before. And the day before that. You no longer have a sense of time and space. Only existence. You are floating, and no one is there to catch you but your memories.

Do you remember what you ate for breakfast last Wednesday? I bet not. I know I don't because I didn't write it down. I learned at a young age to keep track of what I did on a day-to-day basis. Otherwise, some things I might have held dear to my heart one moment will slip away with the wind the next. Blurring until there is nothing left but a faint feeling of something missing. But with time, that too, will disappear.

Admire my past. Welcome my present. And Hope for my future.

I know I need it.