Memory is lonely

"Memories", she said. I look away from the picture window filled with cartoon clouds sliding across a pale blue sky and respond, "memories?". She says that we can visit time through memories, so when I say that we can visit space but not time, I'm forgetting about memories. I like this thought, though by definition and necessity, memory is a solitary and limited journey; we can never visit time via memory with anyone else. Even if we were 'at that time' together, our memories differ, in vantage and content and change through time, so, no, we still can't visit time in the same way we can visit space. Memory is a slippery sand, warm and shifting, covering and uncovering details as we travel forward in only one direction in time. Memory is lonely. She glances at me as if I'm not giving memory a chance.