A Personal Heart

I wish I could erase many of the things I’ve seen, heard, or felt, but I just can’t no matter how
hard I’ve tried.

Every single time I see or hear something that triggers those memories I usually wonder why
I’ve held on to the ones that no longer matter to me.

At least I know I had tried to rid my mind of them though it was useless and that time after time
I cried and cried.

I don’t want to cry anymore, I don’t even want to care, but somehow they surface to the top as
if they were trying to survive in the constant flooding of my memory.

They say that we usually hold onto the memories of what caused us the most pain or that what
we don’t want to let go.

Maybe I really didn’t want to forget; maybe all I wanted was to understand why I was happy
when I thought about some of them or if I cried because the people that most had to do with
had caused me enough pain to emotionally scar me.

At one point I thought that maybe I deserved to suffer, but as time passed I realized that no, I
didn’t. That most of those painful memories are of those people who once mattered, not to me
but to my heart, because never had it sunk so low.

So low that living no longer mattered, happiness wasn’t important since I no longer knew what
it was; it refused to move on, the mind dwelled on the past as time went by.

But then the heart soon snagged onto someone else, like when you walk by a tree and a
sweater gets caught, though this time it remembered the past and decided to let go as if it had
never happened and tried to mend what remained before it got worse.

So what did the heart do? Detach itself, like cutting the thread of the sweater from the tree, the
mind though captured every moment it was content with simple thought of at least seeing that
person.

It did cry at least a little but it knew that it would be foolish and painful to relive the same
experience over again so it gave up but the mind continued saving memories of what it had to
let go. The very few times the heart has ran into a great person those memories play like a
video with no sound and it remains afar, afraid to hurt or fall for a lie.

These memories one at times considers useless in reality prove to be useful, maybe not to us,
but to the vital part of life, the part we cannot live without, the part that teaches us how to
love…our hearts.