That said,
“drama rama” I said to her.
“What?” She looked up from her book, with her eye brow raised in annoyance.
“Drama rama” I said again
“What are you talking about?”
“All this drama,” I replied, “I remember when we were fine, everything was fine between us. I remember-“
“I dont believe in memory.” She spat out.
“How can you NOT believe in memory?” I rolled my eyes at her.
“I believe in imagination. I don’t believe in memory. Your mind has romanticized any and all connection we once had. What you ‘remember’ now, you’ll ‘remember’ a different way from today. Your ‘memory’ is constantly changing. And because its constantly changing, its not what you ‘remember’ its what your imagination has picked up and replaced what you forgot. So spare me how things ‘used to be’ because in honesty, they were never that great. That one amazing night that you may or may not ‘remember’, all those holes have been replaced with what ever feeling you imagined you would feel in a situation like that. So please, just spare me. You dont’ remember shit. You just feel shit that you think you should feel.”
I stood there stunned and stared at her.
“And i feel like finishing this book.” She spat. And she looked down again on her printed word. And I grabbed my things and left.
I don’t remember much after that.
I’m reblogging my own stupid that I wrote over a year ago because I also like liking my own facebook status. I’m that sort of gal.
