Real

When I close my mind I try to capture those few moments in time. A time when it was so real for me. I run through it in my mind daily. It's strange because even though it so new the memory has already become fuzzy around the edges. It's scary to me because I feel perhaps the whole thing will eventually blur and I once again will be without. I want to replace this memory with something I can hold in my hand something that won't blur and distort. Maybe I'm trying too hard. Maybe that is where this ache comes from. The wanting something so badly and not being able to make it real. I want it to be real again.