Memories

I’m trying to write a book. Both nonfiction and fiction about my life. More specifically my high school experience– not that it was anything too traumatic or fantastic in any sense. The thing is that when I tried to revisit my first day of high school I couldn’t remember any ounce of what went down. I couldn’t remember any nerves, any situations, anything from my first day, and I don’t know if that’s normal. I feel like I’ve blacked out during a good amount of my memories. I don’t know if it’s actually a normal thing, but it goes much farther than just high school memories. There is a giant amount of my life that I don’t remember. Even now I have trouble remembering what my yesterday consisted of, but that’s on a good day. The latter is not remembering what I did earlier in the day. I’m trying to hope that it’s a normal thing because the thought of something causing me to either suppress or forget my memories is terrifying. When I do have a memory they’re usually sharp electric moments that lasted a second. Things that shouldn’t have stuck out like a sore thumb amongst things that I would have loved to memorize. I would rather remember a funny happenstance between my friends and I instead of my teacher warning me that they weren’t real friends. I would rather remember something I was supposed to be learning than the flash of a second where I saw my crush talking to another girl. I would rather remember a moment of pure happiness than the moment I found out I was being cheated on. I guess that’s what trivializes life. The ability to remember certain insignificant moments rather than the ones that should have taken priority. Maybe those flashes affected me more than the flashes of innocent naivety I experienced growing up.

Maybe those are the ones that matter most.