An elephant never forgets


I like elephants. That’s a bit of an understatement, I love elephants. I also love monkeys, but that’s for another post. Well, I’m wearing a monkey t-shirt but the picture angle kind of hides it.

Elephants. An elephant never forgets, they say. A Nora never forgets, either. It in some ways a cool quality I have, I remember when my friends mention wanting something badly, and I try to make it happen for presents. I remember old nicknames and inside jokes. But at the same time, I remember old hurts, old aches, old pains. I don’t forget easy, and it’s hard because so many things I’d just rather forget. I’d rather forget how much pain I’ve been through and I’d rather forget where I’ve been. But forgetting the bad and remembering the good would hardly do me any good. It would only cause further pain.

But oh how I dream.
How I wish that I could just let go of all these things that have hurt me. And only remember the good.

“You can go on living as long as your heart believes,
although the scars of yesterday remain,
let’s stay together always.”

The scars will remain, both physical and emotional. The scars won’t fade, but it doesn’t mean I can’t go on living and hoping and wishing and dreaming.

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