Wednesday, August 21, 2013

memoirs, maybe


It seems that specific events have the capability to make you especially nostalgic and reflective, you know? Because when you have a memorable landmark, it tends to make you think back to the last time that moment occurred--the last time you were in that place, the last time you had that event, the last time you heard that song or parked in that parking lot or sat on that couch with a cup of subpar coffee.  Sometimes certain things are so drenched in memories that it's hard to revisit them, even though you somehow desperately want to replay them in your head.

Here's how it is, really. There's this part of your life, and let's say it's a book. At one point the book got too hard to read, too painful to continue. So you stuck a bookmark somewhere along that time, and you closed it for as long as you could bear, or as long as you could get away with. Sure, it seemed to have a mind of its own and would flip open at seemingly senseless intervals, often and unavoidable. And a lot of times when you're feeling especially brave you try to take a peek past the bookmark to see the end of the story, because it's just too suspenseful to carry on this way. But stories aren't like that, you see, and once you've read the beginning, you're not really allowed to read the end until you've gone through with the middle.  There's just one catch. When you finally bend open the pages to that bookmark in an attempt to struggle through the next few chapters, a funny and--let's be honest, here--frustrating little thing happens. The next few chapters can't have existed without the previous few, you see, and you're often obliged to flip back through the pages and remind yourself of the painful bits, the beautiful bits, the true bits. Context is everything, they say, but that doesn't mean context is easy. So you go a little forward and a little backwards with a few tears and a few smiles and a lot of memories that will probably never, ever go away.

I'm heading to my favorite coffeeshop downtown after my first day of school. Hint: it's not my favorite because of the coffee.

6 comments:

  1. love it. you described that so perfectly. and I can totally relate.

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  2. so, like, come to england and make memories and then you can, um, think about them every time you, er, see me? ok, that was a really lame way of saying you should come to england, but ya knooooow. but is the coffee in that coffee shop good tho?
    oh, by the way. you make pretty words and put them together like...ok apparently my words aren't coming out at all, so just imagine where that compliment was going, k? love yooooouuuu.

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  3. We can't get to the good without doing the dirty work first. Absolutely perfect words (and picture of double maxi skirts).

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  4. hey jenn!

    you're one of the only people that still reads my blog now and again so i'm giving you my new link - ohwheredoigo.blogspot.com.

    thanks for your friendship.

    -A

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  5. So, so true and beautifully written. Love it.

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  6. me gusta. you need to come on all my road trips just for the pictures ;)

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