There's that moment in everyone's lives when you reach, and miss. It's a frightening concept. The inevitability of it. The idea that your hand gets so close, and yet the space between feels as if it is truly infinite. The opposite of a black hole spaghettification. What a silly word for a terrifying concept Instead of you being pulled to it, it instead extends back, stretching out to the point while in your heart you know it's only so far away. And yet it remains just that. Away. Unattainable. Yet, it's even more dread-inducing when that swing-and-a-miss is within your own mind. When grasping at straws turns to grasping at mist, and wondering if the condensation on your hands is enough. Sure, it's one thing to lose your keys, but it's another to lose an entire childhood. That first moment of realization that a memory is more than forgotten, it has been wiped from your mind. Do you remember how your first birthday cake tasted? Do you remember what it first felt like to pet a dog? Do you remember the sound of the first bird calls outside your window? Of course not. Not anymore. Are you sure you want to permanently erase the items in the Trash? You can’t undo this action. And you never clicked yes. Your brain did. It didn't consult you. But you have to live with the lack all the same. Those deep holes, filled with nothing. Covered in the futile sheet of "Oh I'm sure I'll remember" and other people retell the stories until your most remembered moments are nothing but words that you heard as if they were talking about somebody else