The Lovers Lost to the Mind

The human mind is a funny thing. Not something I would consider hysterical or funny in that “what's that funny smell?” kind of way. No, I'm speaking more on the funny way that just when you think you've got your's figured out something pops in and shows you a new aspect of your own thinking that causes you to wonder if you should check your hairline for staple scars. Now I'd consider myself a thinker, not on the level with the great brains of history, mind you, but I spend a lot of time clocked in to the old think tank, if you know what I mean. I've conjured thoughts on the existence of God, the meaning of life, the state and future of mankind and any brow-furrowing conundrum in between. I can ever remember, most of the time, what I'd eaten for dinner up the three nights prior. But for some reason I can't remember 90% of the last 8 years of my life. High school, college, jobs, all seem like mist in a pre-dawn meadow, ever evaporating as the sun approaches. I've determined the catalyst in the erosion of my memory, and if she knew it was her I'm not sure she'd even care now. Yes, I'm speaking of an “ex.” Or in my case, the love of my life for some 1/3 of my earthly existence. In a tired old template of tragedy she left me for another after growing bored and complacent in our relationship, the grass was greener out there and she was tired of my style of landscaping. It broke me, like the final shout at Jericho, and my walls indeed came tumbling down. I fell into a see-sawing pattern of smoldering bitterness and slovenly depression with brief smiles peppered about the mess. I'm doing much better now, that you.
But what, you might ask, does this have to do with memory loss? Well, I'll tell you; about seven months ago I was lying on my back staring at a relatively new ceiling trying to form a happy memory of my ex and me doing something happy, it's masochistic I know but ask anyone who's been dumped and they'll tell you a similar tale, but when I realized that there were very little active memories to choose from I was given pause. “Surely there must be more here to pick from, we were in love for seven years.”, I thought. But alas, only three or four decent encounters came to mind. That's when a sort of revelation occurred, if she's moved on and is occupied by a new love, and I'm trying my best to forget her, who will remember those two foolish kids who were so madly in love? I though of my disappearing memories as pieces of history being erased. Indeed, how would those events be preserved if there were no one left to remember them? Not unlike the tree falling in an empty wood, if a memory dies and no one's around to remember, did it ever really happen? Of course I know that, yes, it all happened, I have artifacts and pieces of the great empire of love, unearthed in my moves since that time, but even now when I think on those times I find it impossible to determine not only time and place but feeling and emotion as well. So the question I pose is two fold: Is this just how it is? And if so; Is it ok? Who can say?
As the months pass I find that those memories flutter back to me at times, floating up from some unfathomable depth in my mind like a tiny bubble of air. Proof that something is still alive in the deep. Perhaps this burial process is the mind's way of preparing you for survival after the fall, because really, if you were heartbroken and ever tortured by thousands of memories of the one who scorned you, well, there would be a place in Hades for you next to Sisyphus and Prometheus. To carry on in life you must accept the past for what it is: past. To dwell on it keeps you chained in an ever-fading twilight of complacency and regret, to bury these memories makes room for new memories that propel you forward in life. Besides, who knows, maybe when we die those buried thoughts are released and you can leaf through your life like a long lost photo album. One can hope for such a treat, because I know two love struck teenagers, likenesses as thin as ghosts, who would wish to be allowed to love again in daylight.