The great forgetting

it was, in the end, all they desired. really. just to forget.
to not know of all they suffered, to not recall of all they endured. to tolerate. to survive.

but not to live.

such is the way of life, they reasoned. and with such beliefs instilled over years, such disappointments gathered over decades, happiness, it appeared, only came with the diminishing of memories.

it’s all in the past. that’s where it should be left. there are differences too great to be addressed. this, this, this…well this is the only way to happiness. to forget. to tolerate. to survive.

but not to live.

we all live for ourselves, there’s no need to worry of others. if you begin to care, they find threads to the past, and there, in those bygone years are the hurts…those hurts we are so desperately…trying.. to forget.

why won’t you let it rest.
why won’t you let it be, you little girl, in your full blown naivety. what do you know of conflict? what do you know of happiness?

not much. nothing. i confess.

so we permit these forgettings. we enable conversations to fade. we wait, we wait, we wait, for the promised happiness. but in the great forgetting, in the washing away of all those pains…along with those unforgiveable hurts so great, we began to forget ourselves. we lost sense of what we had experienced, what we had endured, what we had survived.

in the end, they forget they had lived.

i tried, i tried to let past things remain…but one person’s past is someone’s present, and in it there lurks the future of unforeseeable events.

in the end, i cannot forget.


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