What we wallow in or ignore could be marked, evermore, not as fault lines but as no through roads. Letting go of even our most dismal memories is letting go of what we are.
"What's the word for the exact moment you realise you forgot what it's like to have sex with someone you loved?" She asked. And I don't know the word, only that the time for it has passed. Our pasts are ourselves, but ourselves don't last, so hold on. Hold on. Don't let what we've learnt be gone. Don't let go of the best, don't let go of the hurt. To do so completely would just be the worst.
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