"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." - The Wonder Years

Memories, is one thing in which I find at times, can be pretty borderline.

Like the memory of the first time my Dad took off the training wheels off my tricycle... I lost balance within the first few minutes after Dad let go of his hands, and I tumbled all the way down the stairs. It should be very traumatizing, but strangely, I don't remember feeling the pain, as how it should be. I was only 4.

And the memory of my first love? The first time I fell hard for a boy... Sweaty palms, silly giggles, my first kiss and all the late night conversations about running away, getting married in a foreign land, and have 2 kids name 'Travis' & 'Vivie'. It should be something to dream for, something to live for, but strangely, it wasn't something I yearn for, as how it should be. I was only 13.

Sometimes, I say sometimes, there seems to be an invisible void in this corner of my mind, in which I subconsciously block certain memories, be it happy ones or sad ones.

Most people would call them 'The Skeletons In My Closet'. But I call them 'The Grey Shades In My Mind'.

I kept insisting, kept telling the people around me that I am only willing to see this world in black & white. It somehow makes me feel better.

But sad to say, there will always be some shades of grey. The unknown. And it scares me.

Like how recently, Ron and I got into a heated up argument, not fight, that I chose to believe, still. It wasn't our first argument. But this was the first time we both didn't end up in tears. We grew up, and we changed. It has been more than a week, and this piece of memory just refused to be kept in that invisible void. It should be a kind of mental release for me, as how it should be. I am tired of our endless arguements and fights over the years, but strangely, I feel a pinch of pain lingering the moment I hung up on him. I am 27.

Love,
M