That, my friend, is a reminder that you have pissed away half of the semester and now the rest awaits you….essays, projects and exams. The whole nine yards.
My final year of Uni and you would THINK that I would know better. But evidently one cert after another and I am still a full-fledged professional delayer; equipped with quantums of excuses, Dvd’s, bruises from drunk nights and neighbourly bar tenders to prove it! So now I once again find myself swarmed with a myriad of assignments.
Going off tangent, I’ve been feeling nostalgic lately. Perhaps it is evoked by the re-emergence of ex’s. Memory has a funny way of tricking our hearts and minds. Sometimes she has that dimple and sometimes I forget to put it there. Sometimes I only see half her face. Sometimes just her smile. Past relationships usually culminate in selective amnesia. As much as we hate to admit it, we are the culprits who deny ourselves from closure and the truth. Sometimes it stares us needlepoint to the eyeball and we will still make excuses for people we love.
So what happens when the love stops? When it is over and they are out of your lives? When you have moved on and swear this love is far greater than the one before? They begin to disapear. You only remember the small things about them but time is a bitch, not only does it give you wrinkles (God be nice please?) but it bleaches your memory. You look back and you don’t even remember what it was like being with them. Happy. Unhappy. Upset. Jealous. Full. Hungry. Words that delineate an emotion but you don’t remember how it felt, just the tracings. A blurred representation. Like remembering a tune but not the song.
Some have difficulty remembering their ex’s voice or smell. Others (attn: Guerilla daters) cannot place a name. I, unfortunately, remember a little of each of them – but am rather dyslexic when it comes to matching the fragments together. I was the child who would pound the jigsaw together until it fit. It didn’t matter if the cow was floating in the sky. I am incredibly tenacious like that.
So that is how ex’s are to me; merely waning reminiscence. So what happens when you can’t remember the face of the person you are with? Even though Amera and I see each other as often as our schedule permits (not as often as I would like but I am getting used to it), I have to ease myself into her presence each time I see her – especially after a day or two – because it feels as though I am seeing her for the first time. Her face is always new to me, almost ever changing.
Then late last night, when I was laying next to her with my head comfortably nestled between her shoulders and neck, I realised that it is futile. I will never be able to remember the physiognomies of Amera, the ones that quickens and slows ones pulse. Then it hit me like a brick. I have been neglecting what I do remember of her. In my struggle to forge a mental visual of her, I have failed to digest the one sure thing I take with me when we part. It is the feeling she gives me. A feeling so strong it overwhelms the mere paltry details of her face. My memory of her face might be fleeting but the way she makes me feel is real, constant and envelops rather than reminds.
I see faces everyday but this feeling is precious and known only to me. Which makes it more memorable than a mere smile on a face.
I’d like to pose you a little experiment….
When you close your eyes, search your memory bank.
Whose face can you see clearest?
And when you see it, what do you feel?
Then try this:
Focus on an emotion. Any emotion. Happiness. Anger. Betrayal. Lust. Jealousy. Love.Whatever. Then close your eyes. Who do you see?
*Bambino is not responsible for any negative realizations. Only positive ones.*