I don't remember

He was on a search for many years now, a man of questions but not many answers. He had always been a quiet boy with a loud soul and was always tempted with adventure. There was this girl, she had a free spirit, they had a silent relationship when they were young. She would run through the woods with her best friend losing herself in a laugh so innocent while he would hide behind the trees accompanied by his vintage camera that he always brought along. He would watch her and she knew it, not in a weird way but a peaceful sort. Sitting in a coffee shop, 29 now, a caramel colored scruff growing around his face with a few grays peering through, trying to hide the boy he really was. The girl he used to watch in the woods never left his mind, even in his sleep. Is she still as innocent as I remember, was she still laughing? He hoped that Yeats was wrong and that the ceremony of innocence had not drowned, at least with her. At his seat, his mind was turning, ankles were crossed, elbows were propped up on the mahogany table, and his coffee in the little porcelain cup was cooling. It was mid-December, there were about seven other people in the coffee shop, and the trees were bare. The door to the shop opened and a little bell rang to note an entrance. A girl about his age entered, wearing brown boots with her dark jeans tucked in them, a mildly thick brown jacket, her brunette hair fell to her shoulders, and she only had on a hint of eye liner and mascara. She shook off the cold and looked to her right, she saw him. Without words, he invited her to sit with his eyes. She never had an aversion towards strangers. They sat for a brief moment in silence, which she broke:

Who are you?-her
I don't remember. Tell me about your first love-him
She takes the porcelain cup in front of him and sips, they stare at each other for yet another moment.
Why?-her
What was he like?-him
Giving in because she was intrigued she said, "I was 13, he was 11. He was a quiet and mysterious boy."
Tell me more-him
Tell me about your first love-her
I don't remember-him
He lived next door by the river. We never talked, I always saw him though. He was scrawny and clumsy with deep blue eyes-her
Did you ever kiss?-him
Once. I was sitting up in a tree and saw him in the oak across from me on the other side of the river, he was writing. I knew how our relationship worked by then. I plucked an acorn from the branch beside me and tossed it at him, I missed but he looked over. He already knew I was there. He closed his notebook and gracefully fell from the tree. I laughed, I used to laugh a lot. I jumped down from my tree as he was making his way across the log laying across the banks. He was wearing corduroy shorts just above his knees with a forest green shirt, I think he liked to blend in. We were both lengthy but he was still taller than me-her

He was writing down what she was saying and gave her a nod that signed to continue.

I'll never forget it, we were standing there in silence as usual, facing each other. We both knew what was coming. There was an overcast that day and the leaves were chasing each other. He picked me a small Sneezeweed and put it in my hair. We continued to gaze at each other and I started to lean in, as did he. Our innocent lips had met while our young eyes were closed, it was so simple, so blissful. It lasted about fifteen seconds and felt like an eternity-her
Was there anything else?-him. He was smiling.
He had this little camera he wore around his neck, he never used it-her

He relaxed in his chair, uncrossed his ankles, and now crossed his arms up against his chest. It looked as if he was laughing. He had been here before, it seemed like some falls ago but it was winter. She looked puzzled. He leaned across the table, as did she. His grin was bigger now, it seemed as if he had something to say, so she leaned closer.

Close your eyes-him
Why?-she whispered
I don't remember-him

Giving it again, her brown eyes disappeared. He pulled a flower from his coat pocket and put it in her hair, she laughed. She didn't know it but his eyes were closed too. Their lips met, it was so simple, so blissful. It lasted about fifteen seconds but felt like an eternity. In that moment they knew, and his search was over. She put her head down and  her hair covered her face. She then lifted up and she was laughing,so innocently, but a tear fell down past her cheek. She said that she would never forget, but she was wrong, she did forget. She forgot who she was, where she came from, and what that kiss felt like. She forgot what it was like to be free, how to love, how to be happy.

They left the coffee shop and ran to the train. The now man and woman got off at the station closest to their home town and they ran to the old river, or what was left of it. They sat on the dry, worn log that lie across the banks. They remembered.