Just a thought.
Strange, isn’t it, how you can put your mind to forgetting a memory. Throw it out the window and watch it splatter on the asphalt. I wouldn’t call it bitterness, the act of forgetting someone, of forgetting the things that you used to do together. No, definitely not bitterness. It’s just more convinient, to recycle that memory and use it to remember other things like formulaes and flakes of snow and how the sky looked like at
nine p.m. Scent, on the other hand, is one thing that you cannot forget. Those perfumes they used, cheap colognes, shampoo, soap, sweat, no you cannot forget that. Well, I can’t forget that, no matter how hard I try to. As for those that never happened, could have happened but it just never did, I’m never quite done forgetting them. Uncountable what-if’s. Unmentionable, vile, heinous. So now you know. Those big words, those big dreams that they told me. What big words and what big dreams? All I remember is that there were those, but what had they been? All out the window. Best that they stay there, too. Wouldn’t want to laugh myself silly now, would I.
There’s this theory I thought of, yesterday before I drifted off to sleep. That the longer I am with a person, the easier the forgetting process is for me. Say, I was with a person for three months. I forget every detail, and I do mean every detail, in four weeks or so. If I was with a person for six months, I forget in three weeks. Nine months would make two weeks. A year would be a week and wham, bam, you’re outta my mind thanks very much. It’s the thought of what-if’s. The longer I’m with someone, the more I’d know of him and the less what-if’s imposed. The shorter, the more what-if’s would surface. Logical, no? So if I was married for 30 years, I’d forget the moment the door closes. Say in a nanosecond. I amaze myself at times. Once in a while memories come back (especially when I’ve had a bit to drink) but yeah they don’t stay. They go back under the water and god knows what happens to memories when they sink beneath.
