Memory

"....chin-ching, chin-ching..."
weird sound which did not disturb me at first, because I didn't realize, I was meant by that shouting.
That is the repetition of a syllable of my chinese name. Maybe she is the only one who calls me in that way. Indeed, that is my name and long, long ago, in my childhood, (maybe) most of the people called me with this nickname. But since ages nobody has ever used that (lovely) nickname again. And I myself, have forgotten it as well. She is my cousin with whom I played and quarreled, laughing and crying in the years where I was still very young. I left the city where she and I have lived together and left her behind. Since then I never saw her again. Years passed away and both of us have grown up. Until she came to where I lived and asked my mother "Where is chin-ching?"
At that time, I didn't see her as well.

taken from: Träume

Many things happen in our journey in this world. People are coming and leaving. But not much is left in our memory since we need the space for many other things, which are, maybe, even more important. And as time passed by, the memory blurs. What and who will remain in our heart by then?