At least I think I remember what it was like to be love for the first time. I’m not sure what my mind has done to the actual, the factual, if that exists. Have I embellished some things? Did I bury others? Do I chose to remember the romantic and forget the angst? How susceptible is my memory to my current state of mind?
I’m fairly certan that these questions arise because there is a substantial distance in time and experience from the event I’m trying to remember. It’s like trying to make out what exactly lies on the point of the horizon where land meets sky. The more you focus on it, the fuzzier it gets.
Unlike some people, I usually don’t have memory problems. Sometimes, I think I remember too much and it might be good to try and forget things that lead to negative feelings. Forgetting past ills can be cathartic. Forgetting can also be a convenient way to change history, to reinvent yourself. Do I recall a past that confirms, even flatters who I imagine myself to be today?
Well, all that aside, here is what I remember.
I remember the excitement of meeting someone new. The world morphed into a magical place from the lonely, empty space I knew. I remember a smile taking over my face seemingly of its accord and my heart racing when I saw him. I remember feeling light as air and I thought surely I was capable of the most amazing things.
I don’t remember how we parted. I cannot remember if we even acknowledged that our love was over. We just took off in different directions. I willed myself not to think of the past, to concentrate on the future.