all that is left behind

In love, stories on September 6, 2006 by carinasuyin

The late Lewis B. Smedes once said that “Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future.” A new way to remember… hmm…

All I could remember of last September was crying myself to sleep on most nights and waking up with such puffy eyes that no amount of makeup could conceal. It was as if I had committed myself to the greatest fashion faux pas ever in my entire history of being alive- wearing pink eyeshadow. When this September ends, a year would have passed and all that would be left are just memories. Memories imbued in writings, drawings, photographs and perhaps a soft toy or two. I suppose toys can be given away or become just toys and photos deleted but poems and postcards are harder to deal with.

On one humid night not too long ago when we both couldn’t sleep, I asked Ah Tan when would it be alright to remove the relics of the past. We laughed about the idea of burning everything in a ceremonial bonfire. “When they no longer mean anything anymore, the way they used to mean to you,” she answered solemnly. I gazed at the two boxes and nodded in understanding.

When something gets broken and you glue the pieces back together however craftily, it could never be the same again. Mended lines and chipped edges now remain and infuse it with a new mien; albeit somewhat confused and fragile, belying a stronger character that is waiting to be whole once more. Like a lifetime of wrinkles, scars and lines etched onto the faces of old people, it renders them interesting, a testament of having really lived.

I closed the cover on the pale pink box and placed it back in the cupboard.
“All good things in good time,” my heart whispers…


7 Responses to “all that is left behind”

  1. i suggest you throw stuff from past lovers the fuck out the window- the moment you realize it is impossible to be with that person again.

    keeping stuff from them is holding onto a piece of bad memory that you just refuse to let go. i mean, you will always remember the times with them in your head- that’s how our head functions but you certainly do not need to be reminded of them all the damn time by the physical presence of stuff you got from them. do you get my drift?

    you know how you will end up? like now lah… always reminiscing, lost in soapy-ness, never really left that place you left a year ago.

    Moving on is the greatest thing ever. you mourn, you cry, get over with it and move on yo.

    i actually kept something that rose gave me before i left for 2 years and only tossed it away on the very last day when i left the US. it was a really sentimental gesture. i looked at the book and card she wrote me for the last few times, felt really heavy hearted before i finally decided to FUCK IT. *Toss*

    man…all i can say is that I’ve never felt better in my whole life. felt like i took off a heavy burden off my heart.

    so you know what to do with that box of stuff.

    give it to me so i can copy down all those awesome poems of his so that i can recycle them for other chics- and THEN you can toss it.

    hahaha. i am so glad to help.

  2. *slaps the back of your head*

    I never showed you the box the last time you were around, right? If you had seen it, you’d be sayang to throw it too. Sighh… I guess I’m just waiting for when September ends.

    Don’t worrylah Kit, it’s long over and yeah, I know what to do πŸ™‚

    P/s: About the poems, CAN YOU BE A BIT MORE ORIGINAL? Ish ish…

  3. Past loves are a part of you. Loves hurt when they cease because they mattered when they were present. But that hurt fades. And throwing away important and joyful pieces of your life, of you, is throwing away pieces of yourself because some parts of life are painful — and because something meaningful ceased. It does not cease to have been meaningful, or valuable, though, simply because it ceased. Do not throw pieces of yourself away. Some day, the cease part will stop hurting, and the joy part, that part will be worth remembering. If only because knowing you can feel that and be that means something important about you.

  4. Thank you for writing this, max πŸ™‚

  5. I really liked this piece. And Max’s reply is just….words escape me.

    “Do not throw pieces of yourself away”

    Exactly. That reminds me of Tori Amos’s “Tear in Your Hand”.

    “there’re pieces of me you’ve never seen, maybe she’s just pieces of me you’ve never seen, well…”

    That box is part of your history. A marker on your roadmap.

    I really do like your writing. πŸ™‚

  6. Yeah, I was a little tergamam at Max’ awesome reply too. πŸ™‚
    Thanks for reading, spot!

  7. Jeez guys, that is just me tag surfing under the influence but wow thanks.

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