remember me nots

“We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were. I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be…” —Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem1

I can’t remember the dress she wore or what she had bought; I can’t remember what we did for the rest of that afternoon; I can’t re-create the exact timbre of her voice or the precise shapes of her features, the lines at the corners o

Comme il est curieux que, au bout de quelques heures seulement, j’aie déjà oublié la plus grande partie de notre conversation. Rien à voir avec l’évaporation d’une banale discussion de café. Se pourrait-il qu’il existe un oubli actif, que l’on oublie une chose non parce qu’elle est futile, mais au contraire parce qu’elle est cruciale ? J’ai consign

We have moments like this in our lives, when something happens to us and we know it’s important, but can’t explain exactly why. It’s a memory that lingers in our consciousness, a moment that remains locked in our heart; maybe it’s a time in our life that we frequently revisit in dreams.