Memories.
I’ve lost memories of my past, just as you might have, but I also think I’ve lost the most important ones. I don’t recall birthdays. I don’t remember father’s day, which makes me wonder what kind of lousy gifts I must have given my father for memories to have vanished the way they did. I cannot bring back to mind the type of food I did not like, though I’m not sure if I want to, because I want to believe I’ve always loved potatoes and carrots. I don’t remember Christmases, or maybe I do, but they would be only one or two; and I am a 20-year-old boy almost reaching 21. Pathetic, I know.
Out of 21 Valentine’s, I don’t even remember what I did for the most recent one. I know I can always come up with a great setting in my head, and make it so real that it might even confuse myself; but this time, tonight, I would really appreciate a flashback to greater and simpler days. Days when a handmade card was the most precious gift one could give, days when you cheering with Coca-Cola made you feel like an adult, days when missing on your favorite cartoon was the worst thing that could happen, days when clay was the coolest thing ever invented.
Beware, pessimistic thoughts ahead. I could do it again and model with play-doh!, I could pretend I dislike carrots a bit, I could even set up one fake Christmas on April; but it will still be me, a young adult that is never going to get his past back, wasting present with stupid thoughts, thoughts that will lead my future… nowhere.
