I used to believe that saying goodbye wasn’t really a bad thing. In fact, it was, in a way, quite a good aspect. Because a goodbye means a new hello–it’s an opening to other chances; new beginnings and fun new facts.
But what happens when we don’t say goodbye?
What happens when we fade away and leave no trace of our remnants and then the people who care about us just keep waiting for us to return? Will they keep on waiting? Will they eventually give up? Do you think that in that way our worth, too, would fade away?
It’s the memories that are supposedly what’s left behind… But you know… That’s what could make you hate the concept of memories so much. They’re supposed to be of a golden touch. So strong yet so fragile. But in the end? They’re nothing. Nothing to people; something to others; and every thing to those kind and caring people who always smile and refuse to upset the people whom they hold dear.
We hold on to memories as if our whole lives depend on them.We build the future on the past; we live the present because of that very same past and we just depend so much on those memories; be it vivid or not; to the point that we get torn apart; because later on, we realise that people had moved on, leaving us behind to bask on the gleaming remains of the shared ‘memories’.
‘The best thing about memories is making them.’
But the worst thing about them is relishing them when they’re the most painful to bear.
So for those who believe that they are invincible; just walk up to them and tell them,”You aren’t.” They’d ask you why; so just look them in the eye and tell them that every person who hold on to a memory is, indeed, very much vincible. They could be our strengths as much as our fatal weaknesses.
What hurts are the matters you don’t foresee.
What aches is the hurt you didn’t want to believe in.
And what breaks is the memories that you always hold dear.
And that’s why; I both love and loathe memories, for they are the most troublesome of matters.