Lost Time

I caught myself realizing today that it’s been almost a year since I’ve been in a committed relationship. I sat there, trying desperately to remember him. What did I like about him? Did we have fun? Or did I just play into his life? Clearly I did because I only remember the day we officially broke up and I was… happy, for the first time in a very long time. 

And then, I realize there are people in my past whom I still adore, still remember even the smallest, quietest moments. Those moments where we just breathed. Those moments I saw him coming on his bike. Those moments chopping peppers. Those moments playing pool, playing bocce, playing house. Just ordinary moments. 

“I don’t mean no harm, I just need you on my arm, wedding bells were just alarms, caution tape around my heart… You ever wonder what we could’ve been? You said you wouldn’t then you fucking did, lied to me, lied with me, got your fucking fix. Now all my drinks and all my feelings are fucking mixed. I’m missing people I know I shouldn’t be missing, you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance. I know that I control my thoughts and should stop reminiscing but I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings. When love and trust are gone, I guess this is moving on…” -Gnash, I hate that I love you

What makes some people so forgettable to us? People we were convinced that, with them, we could spend our lives? What makes the feeling of being dumped so intense that you convince yourself you actually need or want someone who you never really enjoyed? 

What makes people so memorable, after years or even decades apart? What makes me hold onto the vivid memories of my best friend, swinging on swings, brushing her hair from her face, nearly 20 years after her life faded? What makes memories so sticky?

Some friends, some people I called my BEST friends for years, I can barely remember them. Others, whom I only met once or twice, are etched into my neural pathways. Why is that? I dated people for years and remember little; some for a couple months and my heart still aches for the kisses, like candy, I can still taste on my lips. 

How do we lose whole people, whole years of people? How do I sometimes forget one of my sisters altogether? Is there logic to this? Am I repressing things or do I process them away? 

There are entire years of my marriage I hardly remember and then years where I recall every day. Is that how life is? If so, I am starting to think our bodies and minds are more resilient than we give them credit.  What does it say about the memories that stick out the most? Are they our mind’s bread crumbs, leading us into something we need to continue? To lessons we still must learn? 

Thanks, mind, for forgetting him for me. And for leaving all the better ones for me to dream about, write poetry about, and look for in the next ones. 

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