fading memories

love is so short, and forgetting is so long

es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido

(love is so short, and forgetting is so long) - Pablo Neruda

I’m a very fearful person. I fear for the future, for what awaits me in that strange, undiscovered place. What if I make one wrong decision which ruins everything? How will I cope with knowing that I could have done better, that my life should have been different? Someday I will have to decide who I am and what my life will look like; thankfully, for now, the present is occupying my time. Unfortunately, the present cannot heal all my trepidations.

I fear the past most of all; I am afraid to forget it.

Naturally, there are parts of my past I wish I could forget. Memories I have attempted to purge from my mind, details that I wish would become blurred, but shame has an odd way of persevering. This chagrin and regret will accompany me forever, like an ailment you just can’t shake. Those memories will remain forever loyal, they shall never abandon me, but the others will.

As someone with a self-proclaimed ‘fantastic memory’, I am beginning to fret over my mind’s capacity to remember. I’m already starting to forget.

Small, seemingly insignificant recollections are beginning to flee. They depart in silence, leaving no sign that they were ever there. I do not notice their absence until it is too late, until I’m desperately searching for them and left wanting. It may seem unimportant to some but I want to remember every detail: the name of a restaurant, the sound of the stream near my old house, the smell of my dog’s fur.

I want to remember how I felt in those forgotten moments. How I laughed until my stomach protested, my elation and my hunger for more life. I want to remember the sad moments too, to not have let those tears fall for nothing, to take them as a lesson.

I cannot bring myself to imagine forgetting someone I love. To picture myself in the future as a girl who cannot recall her mother’s scent or the sound of her laughter. I suppose I also dread the natural course of life, of being left without the pillars which supported my upbringing. I need to remember it all, I must.

I don’t want to forget myself either. I want to remember the little girl who still lives inside me, I want to carry her dreams around with me and protect her from the world. As annoying as she was, I still love her.

I fear this loss is inevitable; that our lives have become too full for our brains to contain all of its features. Perhaps I will only remember the best moments, the so-called ‘top hits’ of my existence, but what exactly will those be?

I doubt I’ll remember today. This Sunday’s small happy moments will be stored until their inexorable expiration date and then restocked with more inconsequential items. This cycle will repeat until there is no future left for me.

So yes, the love in my life will indeed be too short and I have already begun the long journey of forgetting.

Thank you for reading this post, I hope you enjoyed <3