For some, brave are the people who set themselves free knowing the world will never be the same again. For others brave are the ones who accept life as it is without pining for what’s not there. Realists show the most courage as they take on the world by what is is, than for what it could be.
I used to be terrified of remembering too much. I wanted to jot down every single memory in my head so one day I could look back at them and go, oh. But that turned out to be one of the worst things I could’ve done. I remembered far too much for far too long. Held onto a bunch of memories like they were my reality. Everything I remembered felt more real than what actually kept happening. Because I only remembered what I chose to remember.
Now I know though, anybody could’ve given memories. But no one would remember as much as I do, did. It terrifies me, memories are all I have. No truth to it. Long invalid memories. This feels like another ending, because these memories will never last. I’m starting to forget. I’m starting to forget the best days of my life. I’m afraid.
She Was Sea 