A Hoarder Of Memories

One hot summer afternoon, when Sophie had nothing better to do, she picked up a fight with John on something very trivial. As usual, with the utmost patience and consideration that he always showed, he heard her lament till the end. She asked him why he did not think about her when he travelled to different places, and get her something that would make her feel special. Something that she could remember him by, a keepsake of sorts. John did not say anything, he did not know how to answer. Sophie could see the look of bemusement on his face; the kind she had once witnessed on a kid who had made a desperate attempt to save the falling pieces of an ice lolly, while the remaining bits dangled from the stick, teasingly. Their altercation dissolved on its own, evaporating in hot air like water droplets too heavy to linger around.

They had nothing more to say.

The next day, John sent her a picture. It was an image of a few tiny wood sticks twisted and entwined together to form a beautiful loop that reminded him of a bird's nest. He had made that for Sophie one day with scraps of grass and wood sticks while they were sitting together in a park, aimlessly gazing at the empty sky. Perplexed, she asked him why he was reminded of it today. To that John replied, "you see, tangible things make it difficult to erase memories. Dreams shatter when they don't turn into reality, and every little thing that reminds you of that person begins to haunt you when you are no longer together."

"Perhaps this is why I don't bring anything for you when I go on my solo expeditions," John remarked.

Sophie pondered on his words for a long time.

She was reminded of the girl standing in the park with an ice lolly in hand, retrieving fallen bits of candy from the ground. After much consideration, she spoke slowly, "If you knew your dream would shatter one day, would that still stop you from dreaming?" John did not know how to counter that thought; he realized that Sophie had always been a hoarder of memories. On days when she was at her lowest, she found comfort in finding fragments of dried rose and crumpled leaves tucked inside the pages of her diary. Perhaps it was the same with people. When things fell apart, Sophie needed to hold on to the memories even more fiercely. Just like the girl in the park.