There will be a time when you don't remember me and I won't remember you.

But I still hope that, like the first time I saw you,
It'll click inside of me like the soft ticking of the second hand of a clock when it aligns at the 12,
With my mind blank of our future (and now past) memories,
And I'll know again, that I was meant to love you.

I can't help but hope,
When I'm old and sitting there,
I'll still be in love with the man in my room
Who shares my loss of memories,
Who shares my last name.