Our memories of people shift and change just as we do. Sometimes, we remember things that we have forgotten, sometimes by choice, sometimes by sheer chance. The good and the bad sometimes blend so immaculately together, seeping dark and light colours into each other that we cannot pull them apart.
There are some memories that are so haunting and immovable, that they take up space in even our most peaceful moments, a reminder of something lost and stolen.
These memories. Just one. All of them.
And I thought I would have to hold on to the thing that hurt me for the rest of my life.
I thought that these emotions would just simply become a part of me, a facet of my identity. I thought that the anger and the pain would be sewn into my heart. They aren’t. I did not realize that I could simply let go of it all. I can. It feels so good, too.
But letting go is not absolute, it does not mean that I cannot feel it some days. It does not mean that I will not wake up in the middle of the night with a heavy feeling on my chest for a while. Because I do, and I will, and that’s okay.
But I am slowly becoming a before and after.