Blessed Curses
“The price of love is loss but still we pay, we love anyway.” –Alice Ripley
Two months ago, I wrote about the difficulties of having to say goodbye to those who do not respect and value us the way we deserve. I wrote of not allowing others to take us for granted and saying no to things that impact us negatively. I mentioned knowing it was the right thing to do for my own mental health despite all of the wonderful memories I still treasured of times spent with that person.
That being said, emotion and logic are very different things and they do not necessarily walk hand in hand. Despite not having spoken to that person since, I am continuously reminded of that person in all of the tiny things that bring joy to my life. Logic speaks clearly letting me know I should not give in, that I should not fight for someone who refused to put forth the smallest bit of resistance in regards to me leaving. They did not put up the least bit of a fight to keep me in their life.
Emotion however, entirely different thing. Emotion still yearns for that person to fight. Emotion is the constant pang of guilt for having said goodbye, the constant desire to pick up the phone, the reaction to the memories, to the little habits and traditions, to the dates of significance.
Recently, it was that persons birthday. I of course, already had a birthday card that had been purchased many months in advance because it was perfect and quoted a phrase that person always told me. I should explain, no matter where that person ended up, I always sent a birthday card. This could not be the case this year and both the reminder and the temptation of this hurt.
That's the power of memories though, isn't it? If you have a really good memory such as mine, one that allows you to pull up specific days all the way back to kinder garden and beyond, you'll probably know what I mean when I say a good memory is both a gift and a curse.
You see, when you can remember most little details... well for one, you sometimes come off as a very strange person for remembering the first thing someone told you years ago, for being able to quote them verbatim from specific occasions, and for remembering little details about them that they don't remember telling you... but aside from that, you have within your mind every hurt and every smile a person has ever caused you.
You remember every single thing one person shouted at you in anger, you remember every broken promise, you remember every sweet gesture another person has ever done for you and you remember every good moment ever shared in their company so that when they change, as most people inevitably do, it becomes difficult to put aside those memories. It becomes difficult to believe in the best or worst of them when your memories of them are so biased.
The bad memories hold you back, and the good memories make it hard to ever even dream of letting go.
Those memories are what make you hesitate to believe when you are told that someone did something good when what you have seen of them was selfish and fake. Those memories make you defend a person when someone speaks ill of them no matter the tears they have caused.
My memories of that specific person are in great majority, really good. I saw the good in that persons heart and soul and believed in them until they stopped believing in themselves, until it came time to accept that you cannot help someone who does not want your help. Those good memories haunt me every day as I mourn for the person I once knew. They cause me grief for the sense that that person is now missing from my life.
Not just for that person either, but for any person that was once a big part of my life. Classmates, colleagues, best friends that have drifted away or are otherwise no longer present in my life.
And yet, these memories are not something I would ever let go of for they allow me to retain the good I have witnessed in the world even in the darkest of times. They remind me of the good I have witnessed in each individual, they allow me hope, hope that these individuals will someday find their own way to happiness. They remind me of the lessons I have learned, just as they remind me of how I felt in certain situations so that I might call upon those feelings when someone else is going through something similar.
Memories are what allow me to remember what makes life good, what I want, and what is worth fighting for. Memories are the reason that I hold on to those I hold dear. Sometimes, it seems it was all in vain, that we were meant to part ways, but sometimes, just sometimes, it makes a difference.
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” –Winnie The Pooh
Emotion however, entirely different thing. Emotion still yearns for that person to fight. Emotion is the constant pang of guilt for having said goodbye, the constant desire to pick up the phone, the reaction to the memories, to the little habits and traditions, to the dates of significance.
Recently, it was that persons birthday. I of course, already had a birthday card that had been purchased many months in advance because it was perfect and quoted a phrase that person always told me. I should explain, no matter where that person ended up, I always sent a birthday card. This could not be the case this year and both the reminder and the temptation of this hurt.
That's the power of memories though, isn't it? If you have a really good memory such as mine, one that allows you to pull up specific days all the way back to kinder garden and beyond, you'll probably know what I mean when I say a good memory is both a gift and a curse.
You see, when you can remember most little details... well for one, you sometimes come off as a very strange person for remembering the first thing someone told you years ago, for being able to quote them verbatim from specific occasions, and for remembering little details about them that they don't remember telling you... but aside from that, you have within your mind every hurt and every smile a person has ever caused you.
You remember every single thing one person shouted at you in anger, you remember every broken promise, you remember every sweet gesture another person has ever done for you and you remember every good moment ever shared in their company so that when they change, as most people inevitably do, it becomes difficult to put aside those memories. It becomes difficult to believe in the best or worst of them when your memories of them are so biased.
The bad memories hold you back, and the good memories make it hard to ever even dream of letting go.
Those memories are what make you hesitate to believe when you are told that someone did something good when what you have seen of them was selfish and fake. Those memories make you defend a person when someone speaks ill of them no matter the tears they have caused.
My memories of that specific person are in great majority, really good. I saw the good in that persons heart and soul and believed in them until they stopped believing in themselves, until it came time to accept that you cannot help someone who does not want your help. Those good memories haunt me every day as I mourn for the person I once knew. They cause me grief for the sense that that person is now missing from my life.
Not just for that person either, but for any person that was once a big part of my life. Classmates, colleagues, best friends that have drifted away or are otherwise no longer present in my life.
And yet, these memories are not something I would ever let go of for they allow me to retain the good I have witnessed in the world even in the darkest of times. They remind me of the good I have witnessed in each individual, they allow me hope, hope that these individuals will someday find their own way to happiness. They remind me of the lessons I have learned, just as they remind me of how I felt in certain situations so that I might call upon those feelings when someone else is going through something similar.
Memories are what allow me to remember what makes life good, what I want, and what is worth fighting for. Memories are the reason that I hold on to those I hold dear. Sometimes, it seems it was all in vain, that we were meant to part ways, but sometimes, just sometimes, it makes a difference.
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” –Winnie The Pooh
Hold on to those you love, fight for them, always put forth your best effort. That way, even when they leave, you can say you gave it your best and you will always have good memories to treasure.
Cheers!
The Bra Street Rambler
Comments
Post a Comment