Moments

       Time is the only thing everyone shares together. It effects us all at once. It's something so limited that our minds can't help but cherish every second of it without even realizing it. Take tragedies for example, that one moment, everyone feels the same thing and it's a unison that can't compare to anything else.
        For this application things will be less blight. I'm not here to complain about societies inequalities or discuss the latest pile of corpses on the news. This one might just apply to me. I'm noticing something with moments I have, more specifically, moments I share with people specifically. Friendships get perfectly solidified over just a single cup of coffee, one spoken sentence reassures me for the rest of time, one movie causes me to deeply care about another person. These moments shape how I feel about the person associated with it regardless of what precedes or follows it. I've already spent a few stories describing the results of the first two moments. That last one is boggling my mind.
        From this moment is something I can't explain. There's a drive to be near them but it's very unique. It has similar side effects of an infatuation but my libido is dead so this affliction isn't lust. All the insects are gone so it's not butterflies either. I am honestly perplexed. I can't explain this. It's not love, my love has a special pattern and that's not being followed so that's out. Maybe I'm in love with the moment. Maybe that's what it's always been. That would explain why I could jump from person to person so long as they shared time with me. There's just something I love about sand trails through the house, movie soundtracks left on repeat, macab card games, levels that can only be completed with someone else; I can't help but try to never leave those moments. Each of these moments have a direct association in my mind with whoever I shared them with. Maybe this love of the memory carries over into loving another person. That's why there's no butterflies, no lust, just a smile on my face and 2007 indie bands playing in the back of my head. This must've been the type of love Plato was trying to describe; like my love of orange Tic-Tacs. I think I finally understand it now. Platonic Love.