Selective Memory

Wish I could remember
But my selective memory
Won’t let me



eels, in Daisies of the Galaxy, 2000

I remember sharing a huge bucket of popcorn. It was a mix of sweet caramel and salty butter, because I'd wanted the sweet and you the salty, and both of us refused to give in to the other (even though I suspect we both would cave, if the argument went on longer).

Because it was dark in the cinema, we had to take our chances with the popcorn. Sometimes, I picked a salty kernel and would spit it back into the bucket; maybe you did the same with the sweet ones you accidentally took even though you claimed you ate whatever your fingers took. You ate what you ate, and I ate what I ate, spit-covered or not.

That's all of it - the memory.

I don't remember how old we were, which movie it was, or which cinema's seats we were slouched in. I remember popcorn, sweet and salty, and you.

I was sitting in a bus when this old memory suddenly surfaced out of nowhere, no how. Was there any significance to this memory? Prolly not; it was just an ordinary thing we did together back when.

Maybe you can help me fill in the blanks if we ever talked about it.

If we ever hung out again.

If our paths should ever cross again.