Bygones

I couldn’t help but wonder whether we could honestly let bygones be bygones. Not that we lie about it but is it actually possible to forget all the unpleasant memories and move on? I dare to assume that having a few of those memories is not a sporadic human condition but rather a sign of imperfection inherent to that condition. So what do we do with them?

Not all reminiscence is cheery after all. You might have called it a mistake then or much later; might have suffered from utter remorse every now and then. It can be anything: an unsaid word, an unborn child, a reluctant intercourse, an unintended remark whether bitter or sweet, a slap in the face of a beloved, a betrayal as well as ignoring a betrayal…anything. Do they literally go by as the name implies or do they stick to our present and ruin our future which is already fragile and ambiguous? Or, do we stick to them?

The human condition is too complicated for anyone to pontificate about it. One can never fully understand but give previously acquired hence limited meanings to incidents, give meaning to things that will never have a meaning if we don’t give them any, almost forcing them to mean something so that we understand, so that we know. Of course, if only knowing were that easy.

Unpleasant memories require a lot of time and effort to go by. The good news is they do leave eventually. They have to because they have no other choice, as we have no choice other than moving on with our lives. I know I got that one straight. It’s as if stepping on your past mistakes. You might either sink into them and get drowned or simply use those long dead, stone hard memories to move further. It’s a matter of choice, speaking of which, I had made mine quite some time ago and I plan to stick to it.

I had my share of heavenly times and my share of hitting the pitch black bottom. I had my ups and downs, made some hard but appropriate decisions and made some pretty lousy ones. If not for all of them, how could I be here, writing what I’m writing now? I love neither my tragic mistakes nor my unpleasant memories nor my lousy decisions. On the other hand, I cannot help but see the fact that I owe them.

In fact, it doesn’t seem so astonishing in a world where there is no pure good or pure evil that I’ve turned out to be a bitch and a lover, a child and a mother, a sinner and a saint. While searching for myself, searching for love and searching for the best thing I can do –and searching ‘cos it was not written anywhere- I’ve come close to an answer. The answer has come close to me. And we’ve kissed.