Fugue from lost time

I turned off my perfect memory. No longer would it trawl, prompted by our every word and deed, through everything we did and said as far as the world's memory goes. I was happy with you, and with the idea of you, and I didn't want us to be ended by the past.

I slept blissfully that night, dreaming without memories, until my phone woke me up in the middle of the night with the unbidden recall of how many times I had attempted this — and you — before.

I had forgotten it was programmed to do that.

.finis.