Stored memories
It always amazes me how some places tend to permanently store our memories, no matter how long it’s been since we’ve last visited them. They’ll just continue being there, even while we’re physically not. A tear that was shed at a certain spot. A genuine smile that once broke through around another corner. A secret previously shared underneath the warmth of a blanket. A surprise that unfolded by the walkway. An unpleasant emotion that’s been bottled up somewhere by the water. An unexpected hug shared underneath the shadows of a tree. Their memories will all continue to take up space there. It amazes me, though, how very little of them would take up actual tangible spots inside our minds or hearts, unless we go back to where they happened and re-experience them again. It then feels like they had in fact always been there, deep down inside, all along – only waiting for something to trigger them back to the surface, while they might’ve been mistaken for having been forgotten. I don’t know how to explain it, but I still feel every little memory rushing back to the surface every time I revisit certain places. And it feels so warm yet so incredibly puzzling. Like you’re being bombarded with so many old pieces of yourself that have already been replaced, yet still watching those old pieces somehow find their way around, settling back in so smoothly that it almost feels like they were never even abandoned in the first place. So very warm. Yet so very confusing. Makes me wonder how many old pieces of myself are stuck in places I’ll never get to visit again.
