Memories
I want to think of a fond memory of us
But in reality, it was all a messy blur
Perhaps it was the time you gave me a hug so firmly
It felt like the warmth of your arms whispered love beyond my body
Perhaps it was the time i caught you asking your friend for another girl
While my glass heart shattered asking, “Am I not enough?”
Perhaps it was the time where you had made me laugh so much over the phone
While making my coffee.
Perhaps it was that night when i had cried hours over you because I didn’t want to lose you, making it hard to open my eyes the next day
I want to remind myself of a fond moment we had,
To make myself believe it wasn’t all a cruel stage play
Or perhaps it truly was that bad
that even hope knelt down to pray.
It's funny how sometimes, no matter how much time passes, our minds still wander back to past loves. I find myself doing it often, trying to sort through the jumbled collection of moments, much like that poem suggests. You know, sometimes I wish I could just hold onto the truly fond memories – those warm hugs, the inside jokes, the way someone made me laugh until my sides hurt. It's almost a protective mechanism, trying to convince myself it wasn't 'all a cruel stage play.' But then, the other memories creep in. The betrayals, the unanswered questions, the moments that felt like a glass heart shattering. It's a messy blur, isn't it? Trying to reconcile the person who made you feel so loved with the person who caused so much pain. It leaves you wondering, 'Am I not enough?' or 'Was any of it real?' I think many of us grapple with this conflicting tapestry of past relationship memories. We want to believe in the good, especially when we've invested so much of ourselves. But ignoring the painful parts doesn't make them disappear. It's a journey of acceptance, I've learned, to acknowledge both the beauty and the wreckage. It's okay to mourn the loss of what you thought you had, and it's okay to feel angry or confused about what actually happened. One thing that has helped me is journaling. Writing down those specific memories, both the joyful and the heartbreaking, helps to untangle the 'messy blur.' It's not about reliving the pain, but about understanding my own emotional landscape. Sometimes, I even write letters I'll never send, just to get those lingering thoughts out of my head. Another perspective I've found valuable is reframing. Instead of asking 'why me?' or dwelling on the 'what ifs,' I try to ask 'what did I learn?' Every relationship, even the ones that end in tears, teaches us something about ourselves, about love, and about what we truly need and deserve. Those painful experiences, as much as they sting, can become powerful lessons that guide us to healthier connections in the future. It's a process, and there's no magic wand to erase the past. But by allowing ourselves to feel, to reflect honestly on both the fond moments and the painful truths, we can slowly begin to heal and move forward. And who knows, perhaps one day those memories, while still bittersweet, will simply be a part of our story, rather than a heavy burden.
