I watched My Fair Lady tonight, and even though I love that movie, it is the cause of my "memory flood". I first watched that movie with my Aunt Jennifer, along time ago. I did not want to rent the movie, but she made me, and she forced me to watch it, I'm glad that she did. I love that movie, and it opened the door to my love for older, classical movies. So that should go in the good memory pile.
Then, I was on pinterest, my favorite obsession, and a picture of The Notebook scene when Ali and Noah are dancing in the street to I'll Be Seeing You. I love that movie, and that song, but then I remember what that song reminds me of, my ex boyfriend. We danced to that song, on Valentines Day, Anniversary, or anytime when we felt like it. Certain songs I cannot listen to because they remind me of him, and then I ask myself why does that matter anymore? It's been almost a year, why does it still matter? I think the reason it matters is because I cannot figure out if I should remember, or want to remember. That's a limbo memory.
A bad memory? Well, that would be my mother, my mother is my bad memory. I'm almost 20, and it's been almost 4 years since "it" happened. Four years! I cannot believe it, but then I can when I really think about it. I hate my mother, and I know I should not hold unto such ill feelings towards someone, let alone my mother, but I cannot help it. I lost my doll she gave me when I was four, maybe it's ironic I lost it when it will be four years in September, but I loved that doll. She was with me through it all, and I knew if I cried to her about what my mom did to me, before everyone knew, she wouldn't tell anyone and I could trust her.
Maybe I'm just emotional because I'm stressed, and PMSing like no other, but maybe I'm emotional because I miss my Aunt Joyce like no other, and I miss Lammers and my best friend. Crying alone can be good, but sometimes I just need someone to wipe my tears and tell me it will be okay and that I can do it. That's my good memory. My "family" is the best memory I could ask for.
My nails are painted Tiffany colors, which brings another memory; a good one. Maybe I should just think of the good ones, but in my weak moments I remember the terrible memories, and the limbo memories too. It happens, and it's going to happen, I just shouldn't let it bother me as much as it does.
Memories are memories, but the memories we choose to hold onto is something we can control.
'tis all
