It all just keeps moving. Things that seemed so freshly in the past remain that way until one day you look back and realize that it was a very, very long time since such-and-such occurred. Things happen. People come, and then they go. You feel something so very strongly and then that feeling just disappears in the flash of a moment. New ones come to replace the old, and sometimes, even when you think that you’ll never forget— you will, one day, forget to remember. That thing that consumed you, that defined you, for so very long, but no longer does, becomes a strange piece of your historical puzzle, and before you realize it, you’ve forgotten how it was to have been that way. Things that you said in the moment don’t hold weight. You meant them when you said them, but later either realize that you didn’t mean them, or that your feelings have changed. People will feel very betrayed by this. But you didn’t mean to do harm. You just meant to express yourself at that one particular moment. But people feel the supposed weight of words. They take the words and they hold them, sometimes forever, and you may even forget that you said them, but they don’t. They won’t.
“How could you tell me over and over that you loved me if you didn’t?” he asked.
“But I did mean it. At the time.” I replied.
But that was just a moment. And sure, I loved him the moment after that one, and of course, the one after that as well, and the next, and on and on. And for all those moments I loved him with every bit of me. But eventually there came a moment where I didn’t love him. At first it was just the odd moment here and there, but eventually it became a string of non-loving moments, and after a long enough time, that string became reality and I could no longer say “I love you.” That would’ve been a lie. So I stopped saying it. But I did, for every one of those moments that I said I loved him, REALLY, REALLY love him. That was my reality for those moments. But reality is not a stagnant thing. Reality is in constant flux. Reality is a concept, not an actuality. Reality differs from person to person, too. Your reality is certainly not mine, though our realities, at times, can merge, and agree with each other for the time being, but that is in no way a promise that they will agree forever. In fact, they hardly ever do. Reality is a sly devil. She can slip into the tightest cracks and manipulate everything in her path. She can make you believe whatever it is that she wants you to. She can change your head, and your heart, and you don’t really get a say. She is a cold, cold mistress.
I wonder from time to time where all those moments went. Is there some great junkyard someplace that’s filled with all of our discarded moments? Or do those moments still exist— ghost moments— that haunt us from time to time, reminding us of the past, keeping us in check of our place on earth. The problem, of course, is that you can never return. Once you’ve left one moment, it is gone forever, and though you may hope with all your might that the next moment will be a clone of the last one, it just isn’t always so. You can’t ever get them back. All you can do is remember them, pay them homage, but of course you don’t want to do this too much, lest you be accused of living in the past. Each new moment is to be realized, lived, savored, and then, of course, let go. Tonight I am drinking a toast to all of my past moments. All of the “I love yous,” and the feelings and the actions. The up moments and the down moments. And every other moment in between. And now, this particular moment is over, slipped away to join her friends, where they are happily congregating, joyously celebrating what they are and what they meant, and waiting to be remembered at some point down the line.
