Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters potrayed in this story. All credit goes to Masashi Kishimoto.

I wrote this in 2008 - it's one of the first fanfics I've ever written - so I felt like it should be the first one I published here.


I would do anything to get it back. That time with you.

I keep looking back, looking for you. Even though it was because of me you left.

I keep looking back. I remember, I regret. But I don't regret the times with you, how could I? Those times were perfect, those times were everything. You were with me, we were. Now it's just me and you. Never have I felt as incomplete.

As I regret, look back over my shoulder, you move on. I'm stuck in the past with just the memory of you, while you are moving ahead with the days, heading towards a future. A future without me. It's so wrong; it wasn't supposed to end this way. Not like this. My whole being screams that this weren't supposed to happen. We should be together, like we used to. We should have stayed, content, in each other's arms. But I failed to keep you safe in my arms, failed to keep your trust. I put you in second place for too long, and too late I realise my fatal mistake. I'm dying like this. Stuck in the past without you. Our past, that's nothing without you with me. But I cherish those memories; they are everything I have left.

I struggle to pull myself forward, to forget. But everything just comes back to me. Your memory won't leave me alone. And I can't keep myself from wondering, is the memory of me haunting you as persistently?

Are you unable to sleep because all you can see is my face? Somehow, I doubt it. I can feel you moving forward, getting further and further away from me. And my heart aches, because I know that, deep down, I wanted you to suffer as I do. I know it's selfish, but that's the truth. And the truth is not always as pleasant as it seems. I want you to remember me like I remember you, because I'm unable to forget. But as I spoke about truth, I think that's not the whole truth. I'm just not unable to forget. I don't want to forget. I don't want my memories of you withering away. I don't want to forget anything of the times we shared, for they're all too precious to me. Every memory that proves that, once, there were such a thing as you and me will be remembered. I'll make sure of that, since you are moving on, forgetting.

I must remember, as memories are the only thing that's left of us.