A Thousand Memories

It’s funny how things transform as you grow older. You realize that memories aren’t reality, but perceptions from how you saw something; not how it actually is. It’s a little sad, but makes letting go a whole lot easier.

The hallway isn’t so long and scary anymore.
The beach where you made out no longer has that magical feeling.
The leather jacket is just a jacket, not a symbol of coolness.
The jewelry has a little less sparkle to it.
The gazeabo where your initials are etched into the wood is silly looking.
The Banyan tree isn’t so daunting.
The swings are a little more rusty.

And at the end of the day, if you can, you ignore the new “reality” and cling tightly to the old memories. Because those memories are what made life beautiful.

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