Proof of Memories

A receipt is a piece of paper. Some sort of acknowledgement of a payment or whatever its purpose. But is it special? Is it worth keeping? 

I have one receipt, carefully folded inside my wallet. Remember that for us, men; a wallet is like a vault, photo album, and history book merged to fit in our back pocket. This receipt is an ordinary receipt. No important details given, except its memories.

Every time I look into it, it brings me back there. Her, sitting in front of me. Her excitement on trying out the food she ordered. Her smile. Her joy of taking some photos to post online when she gets back home. A piece of paper acted as time machine, bringing me back there when it happens. But that was just limited to my perspective. She might have different story on that day. Or maybe its just one of her unremarkable day. It might be a piece of time machine for me, but it can also be just a piece of paper for her. 

Then an unexpected thing happened. I've lost my wallet. ID's and everything is not an issue, since it can be replaced with a new one. But not that receipt. It can't be replaced by another piece of paper with the same memory of it. The connection through that time was lost. I haven't even had a chance to show her that I kept it all the time. Will she like it? I hope so..

Does that mean she's not the one? Is it how fate communicates with me, telling that I should move on and let go? That I might find someone better. 

A friend told me that she's still not yet ready for a new chapter. Her past still haunts her. Maybe a part of her still wants to go back. But what scares me most is that... she don't feel the same about me. 

Friends telling me to look for someone else instead of her. Someone better. But am I the best person for her? Am I better than her past? Last time I checked, I'm still not the romantic person as most ladies loved to have. I'm just a pathetic, workaholic, boring person. She might walk away from me after couple of months if we'll be together. 

Letting go of that piece of paper is not that easy. Not telling her about what I feel is not just because I'm afraid of rejection, but accepting the fact that I don't exist in her world. There's no memory of me being happy with her. Everything was just a dream. My dream.

A receipt is a sort of proof of payment. Now, I have no proof of that memory...