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.
5 days ago