Memories of Glass

A few days ago, I used to wish that there was a thing called "brain transplantation" through which I could erase some specific memories. Not that I hated those memories but it was just hurting way too much to remember how perfect something used to be before it got ruined. You cant count me in the people who say stuff like- "Don't be sad that it ended, be happy that it happened". Its serious shit and trust me, I'm not much of a positive thinker. I don't think that looking at a messed up thing and being happy because it was beautiful before can practically be done. Its stupid and impossible.

It was like this- everything in this fucking world reminded me of that one thing. It was in my head when I was not thinking of anything. Like some sorta screen saver which used to pop up when my mind was blank (Haha! Bad metaphor, I know) I simply couldn't pretend that I didn't care because the worst part of saying that you don't care is knowing how much you do and I couldn't do that. But then I realized that memories are to cherish. That memory sure was a bitter reminder of the present when the past was so sweet, but it always made me smile somehow. It sure made me feel hollow but then I thought that our pain makes us who we are. I guess, not having that memory would have made me feel even more hollow. So I changed my mind. The "brain transplantation" thing can fuck-off. I'm good to go with all my memories. Not that it doesn't hurts anymore but just that I know that now its a part of me which I cant afford to loose.

"All these memories made of glass,

Put on a shelf where they can cast;

Perfect shadows that stretch and grow

On the imperfect days down below."