I stared in disbelief at scattered shoe boxes and people rushing around with high adrenaline, trying to find a pair of sneakers that would fit them and their budget. Le Coq Sportif, my favorite sportswear store, was having its clearance sale. My heart sunk. They’re closing all of their stores in Indonesia, and the one near my apartment was their last one.

Scanning what was left of the store for shoe picks, I thought of all the memories I’ve had with this certain brand. It was the only French brand I wore religiously, especially for sneakers. It was, plainly, the only brand store I would walk boldly into to browse, knowing full well I’d walk out with at least one purchase.

I think it’s funny to think that all of the places where you made memories are slowly being taken away from you, one by one. Old and empty shopping malls that used to be crowded, the ones you used to visit as a kid. Bookstores (QB and Kinokuniya, I’m talking about you), even hardware stores (Home DIY!). Each of them divulge to myself a certain feeling, all the same but all different.

Because time flies and the world evolves, we lose these physical places and buildings at one point or another. And for someone who is especially sensitive with huge feelings on her sleeve, this could be an alien thing to understand, because the grief is extremely difficult to overcome. It feels like losing a memory, especially when your brain keeps implementing the ‘out-of-sight-out-of-mind’ principle.

Keeping a journal and a blog helps. Everything I experience, everything I have, I document; I collect things that people would otherwise treat as trash in digital inventories, notebooks, and organizers. It keeps the fear of forgetting at bay. But it doesn’t contain my bigger fear of missing them.

Distraught (and mostly sad), I chose to purchase a white shoe with lilac and turquoise accents on it, one that I had been wanting for a while now. My love got a similar one, but in another color meant for the male collection. We also decided to buy all-white sneakers, as they were on sale and the prices were very reasonable. I got a sweater that was a little too big for my size, thinking that I could wear them when I missed the brand, for comfort. I even bought several sizes of paper bags, so I could treat them as keepsake.

My grief is calmed down by the fact that in its lifetime, I had influenced at least three people in buying from the brand, including the people I love. That it was loved, that it was cherished. That in another life, I would have said with pride, I did my best in loving you until the very end, and I would not ever change a thing.