Oftentimes when I sit down to write I find myself beginning with a thought and ending somewhere entirely different! Such is the case with my last post…
What I had initially intended to talk about was how we can actually already erase, or at least rewrite memories already.
I’ve never understood the type of person who kept hold of a memory with someone they hold/held dear to the extent that they never again want to repeat the basis of that memory. Convoluted, but for example, say someone really enjoyed [or even didn’t enjoy] going to a particular restaurant with someone in their past; say that was ‘their place’. This type of person clings to that place and keeps it as a part of their experience with that person alone. This type of person will never again go there because it reminds them too much [either good or bad] of that other person.
I have never ever ever been like that.
If I go somewhere or do something amazing with one person who doesn’t happen to be in my life anymore, absolutely nothing will hold me back from wanting to experience that place or activity again. If you have someone new in your life, why would you not want to share the awesome things you’ve discovered and that you enjoy?
And of course it works both ways. Say you have a really shit memory somewhere, what’s the harm in doing/trying that again with someone who might actually help you to rewrite that shit memory?
I’ve got a few things that, quite frankly, I’d like to rewrite with someone who would actually enjoy them with me:
- Dance. I love it, it’s my passion, it brings out an entirely different side of me… and I miss it wholeheartedly. I do what I can do stay in it or to enjoy it on my own, but there’s nothing quite like having someone’s hand on the small of your back, or actually having someone twirl you away, only to bring you back to that look of awe on their face. There’s nothing so sweet as getting to the point when dancing where everything and everyone else just disappears in the room around you… and all you see is the other person, and all you hear is the music. [I’ve only been there once or twice in my life… and it was a glorious feeling.]
- Books. I’ve had some dreadful experiences with people in book shops who were all too eager to hurry me out of there, or nag or hiss until I finished looking around. I’ve had some similarly repugnant experiences with someone who couldn’t even appreciate having a priceless artifact in their hands; who didn’t see any value whatsoever of holding something nigh ancient in their possession. As if it could ever just be “words on a page”.
- Songs. Some people have ruined some songs for me. I’d like to reclaim them, and use them as a soundtrack for better memories.
- Cooking. As much as I enjoy this task, having to cook for someone every night who didn’t appreciate it, and who only complained, was horrid. It’d be amazing to show off my ‘skill’ to someone who might actually enjoy the effort put into it.
- Art. I’ve had 2 very bad people in my life destroy some of my most cherished pieces of art/photography that I had done. I wanted nothing more than to give them a better insight into me, into the way I see and imagine things in my head, and they used it as an opportunity to try and crush that. I wish I had someone to see it and ask me questions about it, to appreciate it not for the lack of a masterpiece that it is, but for my effort and my unique perspective on this world.
- Differences. This one is weird, but in short, I’ve always been kind of accepting if not proud of my googly eyes. I thought they allowed me to see things in ways that most people couldn’t. I’ve always found humor in them, and I’ve always sought to never use them as an excuse. Some people in my past, however, always tried to use them against me as much as they possibly could, saying things like: “You’d be a 10 if it weren’t for your crazy eyes”, or “You’re embarrassing me looking like that. Can’t you just keep your eyes focused?” Some people are dicks. It still hurt though, and still made me self-conscious. I’ve mostly gotten over that as time has passed, but it would still be nice to have someone appreciate them for what they are, just a piece of me, instead of ridiculing me for something that I can’t really control.
There are so many, and usually those bad memories don’t even pop into my head when I do things. I always try to enjoy that singular experience with whomever I’m with in the moment. Every now and again a shit memory does creep in, but I choose not to let it affect my present. There are just those select few though…