There have been times when I wished I could remember more of my life. MUCH more. As it is, I feel like I can remember a few times and a handful of people. At times I have thought my mind was just lazy. Such a burden it would be to remember so much! Other times I have wanted to open doors and relive missing years of my life. Is there a memory filing system of such?
Looking at the tragedies of my first 22 years, I have found that I hope few people remember me. I am grateful to life that I remember so little of so many years and people. At times I have tried to remember old girl friends and even tried to look up people on the internet.
I am glad I have not remembered people.
I am glad that those I do remember I cannot find and most of all…
I hope I have been forgotten for who I was for so many years and so much of what I may have been remembered for.
I never went to a high school reunion because it would be open season on “oh I remember you! You were THAT guy that did THAT!”. No thanks. I realized such things are great for cliques that never changed except the members get older and sometimes die. I do not want to be remembered. It does not matter. It is the past and something I should have learned long ago:
The past only matters for the positive lessons I learned. It is not a place to go take a vacation in. You lived it and now with time it the memories change shifted by the sands of memory.
We often romanticize the past. I did. I have learned not to. There was nothing romantic about it.
My fantasy encounters of people I once knew long ago would be a speech starting out with a defense of myself now: “I have changed”.
The past is only one version of self with many old cocoons and skins left in our brain cells as we have grown older. I am secure in the good person I am NOW and no… no need to go explaining how I changed.
We all do we all did.