Some memories never fade

 Some memories never fade.

They stay sharp, detailed,
etched into us the way your paws once pressed into wet earth—
tiny marks that told the story of where you’d been.

I still see you everywhere.
In the window you used to watch the world from,
nose fogging the glass.
In the hallway where you’d greet me
as if every return was a miracle.

And every now and then,
I close my eyes and I swear
I can hear the soft rhythm of your steps—
that gentle pattering that meant
I wasn’t alone.

Love leaves clues like that.
Little footprints that never wash away.
They show up in the ways I miss you,
in the way I smile at your favorite toy,
in the way an ordinary day can suddenly feel
full of you again.

You were here.
You mattered.
You changed me.

And though your paws no longer walk beside me,
their impression lives quietly in my heart—
a trail leading back to every moment
you made brighter just by being.

These are the pawprints I remember.
Not the ones you left on the ground,
but the ones you left in me.

Forever visible.
Forever yours.