Friday, March 02, 2007


Perhaps the hardest part of moving on is that every moment is a memory. Sometimes I feel like I'm living a series of memories rather than experiencing life as it occurs. There are potent memories in what I eat, newspaper articles I read, mundane conversations, what I'm wearing, songs on the radio, pictures and items in my apartment, movies I watch, my car, my classes, my chapstick. The memories devour the experiences themselves like a child gulping water after playtime on a stifling summer afternoon.


Emily Jane Price said...

Yes! . . . you said it, and I feel it. A song I never got to tell Jared that would run through my head after he returned from Brazil with bracelets and beads was. "Dress you up in my love" That's how he made me feel. And wearing this green t-shirt I remember how it smelled like him after the first time we finally cuddled, and it's hard for me to see it extending beyond your black jacket as I type. What can I wear? Silly? Hard? Experience Gulped Up?