Memories: brilliant things. Stories, kept locked away in tiny little
suitcases in the bottom of your pocket. Every now and then, you reach
into your pocket and pull out one of those suitcases. Occasionally the
size of a suitcase will disguise the size of the story and the impact
it may have on you. Sometimes they make you laugh, sometimes they make
you cry and sometimes they just make you mad. But they are our memories
nonetheless. And those tiny little suit cases in your pocket, make up
that potent and ever so violent, mixture of human that you are.
You may give your suitcases to others; pull them out of your pocket,
brush off the debris, and place them in the pocket of which they are
not used too. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll receive other's
suitcases, opening them up, revealing what they hold and growing ever
so slightly into a more knowledgeable person. If you're even luckier,
you'll pack a suitcase with someone else...sharing it from time to
time. Or even pack numerous suitcases with somebody, viewing their
contents everyday for the rest of your life.
No matter the colour of the suitcase, the amount of dust gathering on
their surface or how old their substance gets; your memories will be
with you forever. You must learn to grow with them, not without them.
Make sure you acknowledge them and not push them away, no matter how
much pain they may cause…because in the end your memories make up who
you are. And like they say, there is no greater loss, than the one of
losing yourself.
- but perhaps it's not even that!