i think it is true that most suffering we endure is rooted in remembering something that was and wishing it still were. memory, eventually, is pain. or perhaps it is what we choose to remember that creates it.
i remember when my friend couldn’t wait to talk to me each day. now, they cannot spare the time or be bothered.
i remember when my friend cared for how i felt and the notion that i was unhappy pricked them like a thorn and they were attentive to me as a natural expression of that care. now, it is easy for them to hear that i am hurting and say or do nothing.
i remember when my friend found my thoughts or words to be valuable, interesting, even wise. they would ask my advice on things. and listen to what i had to say. now, not only do they never ask my advise, most times they have sharp rebuttal or even derision for the things i say. they call me ‘sentimental’ and point out their own thinking as ‘rational’.
i remember many things, sitting here, pre-coffee and trying to get my ‘game face’ on to go to work. but most of all i remember that things change and memory is pain only because the difference between then and now is something i allow myself to think upon.
i am not going to kick myself too hard for it. i am grieving. it is natural. this too, shall pass.
wipe the cheeks, shoulders up, chin out, and on to friday…