The moment this was written, I did so to demonstrate what I could say, in an instant, about what was taking place inside me, I did not realize how prophetic my arrogance would prove.
Learning to cope…
Memory has its own identity, and we struggle each time we learn this anew.
We can recall the nature of our own life in the countless reminiscence of all we have known.
Yet there are times when so powerful are the events that alter every course of our being, that in a single stroke of fate’s merciless pen our every memory are redefined.
All we may recall is recast, every binding emotion torn asunder, and at once, who we were in our memories is no longer us at all.
Memories of Love become regret, devotion becomes purposeless toil, kindness is now is mocking placation.
We remember being part of something;
No, we only realize we were just simply there, as we are now.