Memory Markers
When I was a kid I always spent the first few months after we moved pretending I was dreaming and that one day I'd wake up from being asleep and I'd be back in my old room with my old friends in my old life. It never happened, of course, but I became very adept at transporting myself back in time with my eyes closed. I'd wake up in my bed on a Saturday morning and keep my eyes closed. I'd *look* around the room in my memory. My dresser over there, the windows over here. My posters, mirror, toys and books arranged just so.It still works though. One day a week I have the luxury of sleeping in and those minutes after I first wake up are precious, before reality creeps in. I can close my eyes and go back... six months, twelve months, two years, five years. For a moment I'm back where I was. Back in whatever happy memory I've put myself. It strikes me though that when I eventually do open my eyes, this exercise hasn't made me any happier.
Apparently I've never been very good at letting go. Happy memories become a poison in disguise. Would it be better to forget?
posted by Anne @ 1:16 PM
2 Comments:
quite nice writing; great ending line (poison in disguise).
I've asked the same thing myself. When I lose someone (either a friendship ends, a relationship breaks up, or a loved one dies), I often have very realistic dreams about being with them, everything happy and normal. Waking up hurts. But I tell myself that I least I have those happy memories, even if that's all they can ever be. Better than having no good memories at all.
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