only time

the memory is an amazing and fascinating thing. i mean, our brains seem only so large (some larger than others), but think of all the years of memories and knowledge that's stored up there. i know i make fun of my parents for their bad memory, but truth is, mine kind of sucks too. sometimes, when people give me instructions or important information, i'll repeat it all quietly after them. this isn't because i'm trying to be a parrot, it's because i'm trying to remember it all. repetition helps me remember. i'm really bad at history because i can't remember important dates or years or facts for my life. 1842, columbus sailed the ocean blue? i don't even know. so, it's not necessarily that i'm stupid, but apparently my brain finds it more useful to store the lyrics to eminem's lastest "song" than the years of wwI and wwII.

however, as bad as my memory may be, there are some things that i just can't forget. there are songs that bring be back to that night, to that day, to that time. there are stories that will pop into my mind, not because i remember you, but because i can't forget you. there are smells and sounds that bring me back to a time of happiness and togetherness. and then there are sights. those places, things, and events that will forever elicit a feeling of nostalgia and cause my heart to break a little more. because, you see, as hard as i may try, these memories can never be erased or replaced. they remain in our crammed little minds, occupying that fraction of a cell, but at the right trigger, the song, the story, the smell, the sound, the sight, they are released, and none can predict the damage it will cause. maybe it'll be harmless and evoke a giggle or a smile, but maybe it'll be that moment that tears your heart and breaks you inside. and the worst thing, you have no control over these memories. you can't control when they'll flood your mind, how you'll feel, or how you'll react. they just come. and fill your entire essence so that all that remains is the little girl dancing with the boy, both filled with so much happiness you think your heart will pop. of course, then your bubble pops, the horrid memory of the humilation that followed the dance dries out the wave of happiness, and you're left to feel the rock-hard ground of reality.

but let's not be negative. these memories, the good and the bad, remind me of another time, and another person. i'm no longer that little girl dancing with the boy. i've changed and i've grown. i've used these memories to improve myself and my decisions. i've learned from my mistakes, as well as my successes. and i'm still learning. and along the way, i'm creating more memories. instead of that overalls-clad dork tripping up the stairs, i'm now that awkward "young adult" tripping up the stairs, but may a lesson be learned from that as well. don't wear heels while trekking through 2 inches of slush uphill.