“Nothing will be saved. You are sitting in the trunk of his father’s pick-up truck, blankets wrapped around your bodies, his hand up your thigh, smiling a smile that doesn’t quite wrap fully around your face, but you swear, it’s genuine. In the moment, you are lit. In the moment. Your life slowly becomes a long line of ‘in the moment’s’. Moments where you drank too much or loved too hard or fell too fast. But where are those moments now? You don’t care for the boy who touched you like you were gold in the trunk of his father’s pick-up truck. You don’t remember the way the skin around his eyes crinkled if his smile was real - nor will you remember the way that smile fogged up your mind so much that it was impossible for you to make rational decisions. You won’t remember the laugh that caused your heart to soar or the voice that you fell asleep to nearly every night. Nothing will be saved. You won’t remember all the times you fell asleep in the grass outside, the blades cutting into your skin as sharp as the words of your parents or the tongues of the boys who you let climb inside of your skin. You won’t remember them either. All the nameless, faceless boys you hazily kissed with liquor lips at the party your friend dragged you to three years back when you were so lost and so desperate to feel something you couldn’t quite place a finger on but it was at the tip of your tongue. You won’t remember how you lost it in someone else’s mouth. Nothing will be saved. When you’re drinking or dancing or touching or being touched you sometimes feel like those moments will last forever, like you have found infinity. That one kiss. That day you fell off of your skateboard and all the blood rushed to your head. That night your mother locked you out of the house. That day that you felt like you were slowly drowning and you weren’t even quite sure if you wanted air. Those moments - they are small slivers of infinity, small bits of forever. Nothing will be saved. You won’t even remember. Those ‘in the moment’s’ that you held onto with shaking fingers like a lifeline. They’re like a call dialed to a forgotten lover, a sick relative - heavy with cold and heartbreak and laughter and tears, both good and bad, and they feel like fire, they feel like forever, but you won’t even remember. You’re constantly burning - nothing will be saved. Nothing will be saved.”