Memories.

I have lots of memories. Good ones and bad ones. Happy ones and painful ones. Some days I like memories and some days I want to avoid them. It depends.

I love the memory of my duo partner and me taking our shoes off and running through the college campus at 10:00 PM, the evening before a debate tournament. We kicked off our shoes and ran. I loved the feeling of the cold pavement on the balls of my feet. We laughed so hard. It was carefree and immature. It was lovely.

I love the memory of my childhood crush asking me to dance for the first time. I blushed and it felt like everyone saw it. I was so ashamed because my face was giving it all away. But I was on cloud 9.

I love the memory of telling my grandfather all my deepest fears and hurts. It was 2:00 AM. I cried and he held me like a kid again. I felt so warm and safe.

I love the memory of breaking in debate for the first time with my debate partner. I remember we both screamed like little girls. We cried. And we were debating our debate-crushes, so we had to go fix our makeup before the round, of course.

I love the memory of my little brother telling me his deepest hurt and crying in my arms. I loved holding his little body and telling him he was going to make it. I loved the teeny bit of personal healing that I got from that.

I love the memory of running down the beach naked with my best friend when we were five. Those were the days.

I love the memory of being twelve-years-old and my grandpa being the first guy to bring me flowers on Valentine’s Day.

And then there are all those memories I try to avoid. The ones I push to the deepest corners of my mind, shove under a pile of rubbish, and leave untouched for years. Those memories are nasty ones. They rarely come out of the corners of my mind. It is even rarer that they come out of my mouth.

The thing with memories is that they don’t leave. They are all we have of the past. Relics from the past disintegrate. People come and go. And yet memories tend to hang on tight.

I guess the only thing we can do with memories is remember them, accept them, and move on from them. Memories help us see why we are who we are, but they are not who we are. Don’t forget. Remember. And then you can move on.

You can’t choose what to remember, but I guess we can all choose what to dwell on.

~Yours Truly.