What the memories mean....
I've got a gig which takes me past Charmante's neighborhood, and wouldn't you think that after almost a year of splitting up, I would be over and done with her. But it's difficult, because we made a lot of memories together, and many of them are very nice memories of strolling the streets of NYC, holding hands, hugging and just keeping ourselves open to adventure.
So I walked down this street in a neighborhood known as Hamilton Heights, and I remember the time we roamed around, the rows of brownstones, the towering trees, the shade, the gardens.... and I remember.....
Nostalgia is a hard thing to fight against. On the one hand, there is so much to remember, and these memories are very, well, memorable! But you know that you can't go back, they are lived once and then gone.
So what's the point of these memories? Are they to be lived and discarded, thrown away like so much debris that accumulates in our brains?
That's not it; our memories make up who we are, whether pleasant or painful. I think the idea is to preserve the memory, and divorcing ourselves from the nostalgia, and think about what we learned at that moment. Moment.