The Memory Book

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

When sadness makes you feel empty, when life makes you reach the lowest point try to redefine the meaning of your happiness so you can reach it every time you think the sky is falling on your head.

Reviving & sharing moments. A way to be remembered by.

 

 

They say: ‘Write down what you feel so you don’t have to think about it anymore’. So, I wrote to free my mind and on my way, I learned to accept how to fall apart and to rebuild myself in a world that gives me as much as it takes from me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter I: They are many ways to be and the way you exist now is not absolute.

 

I am scared but it might be a good thing to feel…Let me tell you what scares me. Nonstop thinking and a thousand questions going through my head. They say: ‘All your answers will come when you least expect it’. Still, it scares me that everything is falling apart but then again, they say: ‘They will eventually fall into place’. It all sounds like a cliché to me but I have found no other way to survive this emotional phase than to read quotes hoping they would comfort me because I reached my breaking point. I take their words for granted and I assume without no proof that some great happiness is going to overcome me, but the fairy godmother’s schedule is overbooked so while waiting for a last-minute cancellation I want to share my sadness with you. From all my mistakes I know now that no one has the right to take my happiness away because it is mine and only mine. It was up to me and I have only myself to blame for being in the wrong relationship and for not being brave enough to get out of it. Leaving him, him I truly and honestly loved was one of those things in life that seemed impossible. When you leave someone, you care so much about you can feel and hear your heart break-up, it’s a physical pain that damages your body. It feels as he will always be a part of me, my heart is set on him and I cannot allow this pain to leave me. Not yet. In time I will heal but pain can be persistent, and no one knows when my grief will go away. I made a choice for myself and I expected the whole universe to back me up but in reality, I am overmastered with remorse and guilt. How come when we make a choice in life, we suppose that the world is immediately going to change for the better? Nothing could be less true I am second guessing everything if nothing happens soon will that mean I made the wrong choice? I feel stuck and although my change is urgent Universe is defying me. The conditions were right I had no other option, but will I be strong enough to defeat the violent tornado I created? For the first time I want to believe that I am strong enough to stand up for myself. Maybe I made the wrong choice but then again, I have been wrong some many times before. God help me to survive, give me one more chance to do things right in this life. Nevertheless, I will try to accept that the future is not going to be how I wished for. It is just going to be different. I may not have all I want but I do feel blessed for all I still have. People are telling me to let go and to move on. My break-up might be old news for some but for me it is too soon to give up on my heartache so for now I am holding on my agony and I am facing my mischance. It is like a struggle preceding death holding on is painful and letting go hurts. Meanwhile I am trying not to let my heart torment my mind and on my better days I remember that they say: ‘Everything happens for a reason and someday it will all make perfect sense’.

Unintentionally we leave parts of us in people’s lives and in this world so we can be remembered by when we are gone. Although Mister H. is no longer in my life, he is all over the place. Pictures, love notes, an engagement ring, wedding invitations, a sweater and a few other things. Together all of these pieces remind me how naively in love I was with this man. My naivety was genuinely, frail and so vulnerable I was convinced to be a victim of bad love. Convinced he harmed me, he injured me, he damaged me.Why is it then, that they say: ‘Every single choice you made in your life brought you to this exact moment’? Are they saying I brought this on myself? What was I supposed to do? Simply accept the truth that was lying in front of me. Accept to take off the blinkers and share my misadventure with the outside world? No f****** way! Absolutely not! Not today, not in a million years. Rumor has it she is still single at her age. I rather keep up appearances than admitting that Mister H. is no good marriage material. He is definitely not steady, self-centered, he deceives and does it all in an underhand way, but I can’t help it I am in love with Mister H. There is no turning back we are getting married on the 30th of August and until then I want to believe that people can change for the better. So, I embellished what was promised for me and I sat up an optical illusion every time it suited me. As a child they tell you, you can be anything you want as long as you have faith in life, faith in yourself, faith in your dreams, faith in God. But the truth is that reality inevitably catches up with you, my absence of knowledge and my poor judgement brought me indeed to this exact moment. If I was not blinded by love I would have left him from the first lie and if I was not blinded by my own naivety, I would have known not all people can change for the better. An honest man takes responsibility for his acts. But Mister H. is the kind of man that wants absolution without confession. He wants mercy without saying the words that are required before one can be forgiven. Playing with money that was not yours and pretending it was for an honorable reason is not excusable.

Now that we are over you must feel relieved, the pressure is off, but did you really think that the end justifies the means? Have you finally dropped your ego and its wild plans?

Probably not because it has never been about putting yourself in question it is about me asking too much from a man that gives very little. I am without no doubt a victim of bad love but at the same time I am guilty too. Guilty, for taking part in this masquerade in all conscience, guilty for lying to myself, for pretending and for everything I accepted on my own free will.

 

Sun Tzu said: ‘Sometimes we need to lose the small battles in order to win the war.’

Breaking-up was the small battle now I have to win the war against my own dysfunctional mindset.

The consequences of a break-up are always the same. It is the law of repeating patterns. The patterns I create in my head. I choose to be addicted to the few good memories I have left. I choose ironically to stay stuck in something that does not exist anymore. I keep these racing flashbacks alive, illusions and hallucinations I let fly through my brains at high speed. My mind, day and night, wandering off as if the real world had no relevance anymore. Slipping into trance, my head is spinning, I feel dizzy, I want to lay down and fall asleep. Losing consciousness reduces my pain, it excludes al external noise, it feels like finding peace in a world that only exist for me. Time is slowing down and from where I am standing pain is relative. They work like a drug and I am addicted to it. Living in the past is my sedation, reviving memories is my redemption they give me inner comfort instead of obsessed sadness and uncontrolled tears. Only when the effect of the drug runs out, I become aware again of the potential harm of posttraumatic heartbreak disorder. My mind is trapped, and it is blackening my view. The lack of clarity creates chaos and confusion. I lost track of time. Have I eaten today? Is it night or dawn, do I even know what day it is? I can only hope I am in a deep coma and this bad feeling will soon be over.

But who am I lying too? I have been counting them since day one. I know exactly what time it is. It has been two years since I cancelled the wedding. The question I should ask myself is where have you been the last 104 weeks? Time has obviously only slowed down in my world. For my own sake I need to get sober, I need to detoxify my head, I need to find a remedy to counteract the effects of my poison.

They say: ‘If you do good, you do good for yourselves; and if you do evil, you do it to yourselves.’ Deep down I know I must do something about it. But how? I do not want to erase my memories. I want them somehow to continue on existing outside of me but at the same time nearby me. I want them to be invisible, but I want them to exist. I want to give them a place because they are a part of who I was and who I do not need to be anymore.

You are right Sun Tzu ‘All war is deception’. Whether it is a war against your enemy or a war against yourself. We should all find a way to agree on the art of gratitude, the art of peace, the art of free will, the art of words.

Mister H. is no longer a part of my life just like my grandmother is no longer a part of this world. Come to think of it, it reminds me that Mister H. is not the only one I miss. My Nana was an exceptional woman and a real experienced memories collector.

 

Through her I have parts of my grandfather I have never met. The one I love the most is the purchase order he wrote for his barbershop dated November 18, 1947.

Today Nana, I want to thank you for the wonderful moments we had together, for sharing your stories with me and for the memory box you gave me. A box I had for more than a decade in my living room. A box I love to open to remember how great it was to spend time with you. At my lowest point you made me realize what I was supposed to do with my memories. I do not have to ignore them, I do not have to forget them I just have to create a place where they can stay, where they can go on. So, I started writing without no clue of what writing means. No clue how to share this little part of me that represents nothing for others, insignificant to the universe and yet so meaningful for me. It does not matter what others think. What matters is what I want. And I want to detach, I want to share, and I want to write it down. I want to commit to something. I want to write a story I believe I am not capable of. Because just like everyone I need to rebuild myself in a world that gives us as much as it takes from us. Face the future I have been running from, identify my needs instead of waiting for someone to tell me what do and how to feel. Is it to pretentious to commit to myself and to make something come true?

My dear Nana I don’t know if you did this consciously or unconsciously but in the end you did an act of goodness, an act of happiness and now I want to pay it forward just like you did with me.

My memories, your memories, memories of people’s existence should be passed down through generations so they can keep on existing outside the boundaries of deception, mixed-up expectations, delusion and confusion produced by the release of dopamine in the brain. Precious memories bound together like in a book, unique stories you have never heard or read anywhere else. Sunny afternoons, laughter’s, dinners, tears, separations, goodbyes, birthdays, love, dreams, regrets, hope, anger, you name it. Memories cannot be limited nor by time nor by the judgment of others. Doesn’t it put your mind to rest knowing you will always be a part of it? A part of people’s life, here, now and maybe just forever.

 

There is no U-turn possible when you make a promise to your grandmother. So, to express my gratitude I maintain your tradition alive by adding my memories next to yours hoping this story will be a good deed for someone else.

You probably expect my first memory to be about Mister H. And it was at first, but the more I think about really matters the more I realize he is not my number one memory.

Let me take you back to that moment.


Submitted: May 08, 2021

© Copyright 2021 nomanai. All rights reserved.

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