It always ends up being a part of our very conscience. A tiny glimpse of reality, that we so dearly lived and laughed about. Like a fragmented ray of golden yellow light, on a pouring day, which doesn’t last too long, which vanishes right after warming us with happiness and joy. Like a glimmer of comfort in a cold shivering light.
I’m talking about Memory, my friends, something that thankfully we all still have.
How amusing, when they always poke their heads up and leave us feeling millions of emotions, emotions that we can not explain, emotions that we didn’t know existed, emotions that we couldn’t comprehend ourselves. We all have felt something very similar, from time to time, when our heart was very near to bursting out. But doesn’t it just feels magical? And surreal? And from ages ago? Yes, they do have that sort of impact on them.
After all, they are just mere soft, representations of how insanely, passionately, completely, and strongly we feel. They surround us unexpectedly, like catching up with an old friend, you met after months. Oh! there’s so much to share on so little time. have to relive every second of our past days. Doesn’t it feel good?
Not only does it reminds us of the time we spent, but also the scent of perfumes, the pathways that we walked on, the cold shivering breaths in the December night, the long funny talks, everything, and anything. And no matter how many times they had been replayed in our head, still with every other visit it refreshes so many things. Like the old favorite song of ours that we just can’t get enough of.
I have a thing, for cherishing those gone times. I like remembering them, it makes me feel happy. I feel safe holding on to those fleeting pieces of stuff more than reality. A true sign of an English lit student? No? Ok.
Not gonna lie, I do take pride in the things that I adore and believe in. Letting go doesn’t always feel like the right option. And if it’s a happy core memory, Never.
Do You remember the smell of wet earth scent, after a light rain? Can you smell it right now? Can you see the drops exactly as they were? I know I can. There is something with that rain, that lightens my mood and makes me want to create something. Every time it rained during the lockdown, I painted. Nothing massive or so, but I did. Maybe a doodle or two, a sketch of a lady, or a copied-down Pinterest sketch of something.
One thing I knew, was if it was some kind of a signal to my brain to start envisioning those sounds of rain and fully submerged myself into my own fiction. I have a whole living world up there, would tell you someday, maybe.
Fun fact, today is such a similar day in itself, not exactly though, here I don’t usually see those brilliant sunset colors like they were at home back then. Do I sound like an 80-year-old lady? With a cat on her lap? I hope I don’t. I won’t particularly mind it though. People be like very scared to grow old and wrinkly, I, on the other hand, am patiently waiting for it to happen. I like to know how it feels to be wise, for once at the least.