The least I can do is keep you in a pocket somewhere in my subconscious. So you’re a memory I won’t forget and an event I won’t remember, altogether.

That puts you in my everywhere: a place, a vehicle, a handkerchief, a piece of clothing, a phrase, a scent. And you would seem familiar, but not really; my mind won’t ever be able to decipher the truth of your existence. You would confront it with the same sensation and it would seem to recognize it - sure, a little on the inside. But every time, it won’t dare give you the benefit of the doubt. 

It does not sound lovely; allow me to keep you, still.