Monday, 2 May 2011

I see you driving around town with the girl I love and I'm like "forget you!"

I'm rather good at complimenting myself: an obsession with mirrors, a list of ways I can do my very best every day, a self-congratulatory points system. It is rather unbelievable really and makes it hard to distinguish what is actually said to me. Fact: not a lot (which is for the best really).

But as a child, I had this thing, that after repetition I adopted as my proudest trait. A party trick, a legacy, a sign of maturity. "Like a steel trap!" my mom would exclaim at least once a week and I would curate it, display it, and exercise it. My steel trap. It knows yesterday's news and the day before that and the day before that, and my class schedules in college, and the most important things promised to me when I was 18.

I remember you too. I remember what you were afraid of yesterday, and what you said you'd change, and what you hoped you'd become. I remember your lies too even if I didn't know them to be so, and all these things I remember are my own bible, chapters and verses that can be underlined, analyzed, and memorized again.

I don't forget things. This makes me a very valuable employee, and a sometimes harmful friend. Over the years, it's weaned and waned and I've learned somewhere in the back of pensieve to bottle up certain things. Grace has let me move past a few moments, but otherwise I carry the past around with me.

It's not easy being sure. It's not easy being the only holder of so many memories. The only estate trustee, the only living relative. But it's a rare enough trait that at least it's admired, even if if makes me feel so, so alone.

I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind... At these times... I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure.


mysterygirl! said...

Although I don't think my memory is as good as yours, it's still pretty good, and the worst part about it for me is remembering and being able to dwell upon, in detail, every embarrassing or hurtful thing I've ever done. You'd think that would give me more incentive not to be a moron, but so far that hasn't been the case. So, yeah, solidarity, sister. I understand where you're coming from.

peefer said...

I remember flavours rather than details, and I'm not talking ice cream. This applies to movies, relationships, books, weddings, funerals, vacations, yesterday, everything. This is lonely for different reasons.

I liked your post, Abs.

Jennie said...

I can't think of anything clever to say so I'll just say that I often wish I had a Pensieve.

eclectic said...

See, I think you're brilliant here: quoting a Cee Lo Green lyric in the title, and moving on to Harry Potter by the end, and making the whole thing engaging yet fraught. I'm sorry you feel alone, though. It's probable that we all do, which, paradoxically means none of us actually are. Weird.

You can call me, 'Sir' said...

I, too, have a very good memory, which has tilted more over to the curse column rather than the blessing one. You articulated the curses extremely well and while I'd never considered the genius of keeping a pensieve around the house, now I covet it.