Jack
Martha
Donna
Wilf
Joan
Mickey
Sarah Jane
Rose
NAMES. That's all they would be to him. Future him that is. People who he'd seen grow. People who he'd robbed of their lives. He'd taken them away. Further away than could ever have been possible. Further than any of them could have imagined. And there had been good times. Of course there had been. The good times still lingered in his mind as he visited them all. But how long would he remember the good times? Would the he of the future ever know they happened? That's the problem with change, you never know what you're going to end up with. Memory was a fickle thing. It enjoyed teasing you, but he couldn't deal with that. He wanted to remember. Part of him wanted to find a post-it note, write their names and hope they'd trigger a memory. But then that wouldn't be fair. Burdening his future self with that past. Causing them all the hurt that they didn't deserve which he has placed in their lives. Now he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to cause the people he loved more pain once he was gone. Allowing a new man to saunter into their lives would be wrong. He had to let them go. Let his memories go with the tide and be carried along with him. And as he walked up the gang way for one last time, he stared back at the doors leading to the outside world, the place where he kept everything, and remembered the good times. Glad that they ever happened and that he was ever allowed them.
Good times are hard to come by, but to remember the good times is important. Or else what do we leave of ourselves when we're gone?
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Thanks for reading! xxx