I don’t believe in regrets. I believe that nothing is a coincidence, everything happens for a reason, and that nothing is in vain. I believe that even the super-duper bad things in life are there so that we can learn from them, overcome them, and become stronger, more beautiful people than we were before they happened. But, at the same time, there is about 1/5 of me that sometimes – only sometimes – wishes that some memories would fade just a teensy little more than they have, or seem to plan on doing. I sometimes wish that certain things, especially painful things, could slink off into the background and only resurface when I want them to for some reason which currently escapes me and probably does not exist.
Do you know what I’m talking about? Those little glimpses of your past, of things that were but no longer are. Things that were good, that are now bad, or that don’t exist anymore. Lost friendships, lost loves, lost joys. Yes, thank you, I do know I sound like a melodramatic sap, but we’re all allowed two or three melodramatic moments a year, according to the Life Rulebook of Life. Anywho.
I never quite know what to do when this happens. It’s a little bit like a really thin, almost not there glass sheet…of glass…shattering slowly over your head. Not that I’ve ever experienced that, except maybe in a nightmare or when I went to Disney Land. But it’s a little akin to what I imagine that would be like. It’s shocking, but slow and steady at the same time. Because, after all, it isn’t a new pain. It’s been there for a while. It’s just a reminder. Okay, not just a reminder, I mean, it’s pretty freaking intense. But it’s a copy of the real thing, not the real thing itself. It’s such a weird feeling. And when I feel like this, I write. So that’s why I’m writing. Well, it’s not why I’m writing. *sigh* You get the point, yes?