Today is a significant day. Every time I write '6/4/07' on the little pink message pads at work, bittersweet memories resurface...especially the hard-to-supress bitter ones. I hate it. Not necessarily the event, but the fact that I can't forget it.
I actually tried to tell myself yesterday that my heart wasn't really broken. That made me laugh.
Why is it taking me so long to get completely over this? Maybe it stems from the "lessons" taught in my history classes. "Those who fail to remember the past are condemned to repeat it." Maybe, in some twisted way, I believe that if I hold on to it it won't hurt as much if it happens again. (Key word: if.) But what really happens is that I become paranoid and untrusting. Here's my version: "Those who fail to let go of the past are condemned to become psycho".
This fear is like a plague. It keeps resurfacing. That's when I take different approaches, like the other day, trying to convince myself that my heart wasn't really broken. The problem is that the problem isn't mine to fix, and I forget that all too often.
How does true restoration take place? I know the ultimate answer...the 'end'...but what are the 'means'?
The Basics
- Shiana
- Hello friends. This blog originally started as an attempt to vent the plethora of emotions a 20 year old experiences. Since then, it has evolved into a very neglected, yet still cherished, form of expression for me. So, if you want to know the things that lay heavy on my mind...read on.
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