Memories are funny things

They're gone before you realize it. That very well may be the best thing about them in some cases, but it's also the worst thing about them, too.

Pretty much most of my childhood I struggled to forget. I'm sure most people (though definitely not all) are in the same boat of hating the awkwardness of growing up.

I became darn effective at forgetting memories, and being aware of the ones I wanted to remember. I remember sitting on the Olive Walk with Ari Pine, just talking on cool Southern California evening some time during my junior year at college, and thinking, "I want to remember this. This is a good moment." I have no idea what we talked about, nor who else was there, but I do remember that it was good, and that I wanted to remember.

I find myself more and more wishing that in the destruction of my bad memories, I hadn't lost the good ones, too.

But, I guess memories are like that, too. You don't get to choose.

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