Time Doesn’t Just Heal, It Destroys

Photo by Pixabay via pexels.com

When people talk about time and emotions, it’s usually about how time heals us. Got your heart broken? Lost someone? Feeling sad? — Give it time and you’ll feel better. 

Well, as much as “time heals” (and all variants of that quote) is common knowledge and is true for negative emotions, nobody talks about how it fucks up positive ones. 

I’m thinking of how much of the good stuff we forget because time makes us.

I remember when (I thought) I was experiencing one of my greatest “friendship” moments in life. It was a constant high of mushy emotions and I loved every single moment of it. I lived it, wrote about it, showed it off, and documented it. It’s funny how I tried to remember the feeling a few hours ago but couldn’t. All I could get were flashes — very weak ones. Some clear thoughts, some valuable lessons, but still very incomparable to what I felt when the friendship existed. With all my efforts and the retentive memory that I get commended for, I could feel only about 10% when I tried to remember what it really felt like. This same friendship is the one that I felt was very absolute, so why is it so hard to remember how it felt? lol.

Last year when I graduated from the university was the most relieving I’d felt in my entire existence because I had gone through a lot to get that degree. I thought that was a feeling that will stay with me for a long time, but nahhh. I’m stressed out by many things; many of which wouldn’t exist if I wasn’t a graduate.

My most relieving moment brought about some of the most stressful issues I’ve ever gone through, that I’ve even forgotten what exactly it felt like to have absolute relief. Nice game; this life.

I am where I am today as a result of my actions — good and bad. Yet, I have forgotten the moments that changed my life in whichever direction.

What does it feel like to be the star boy? What does it feel like to constantly win prizes? What does it feel like to fail when everyone expects you to succeed? What does it feel like to compete with your younger brother in removing your dad’s socks when he gets back from work? What does it feel like to get head rubs from your father after you put off his socks? What does it feel like to talk to your grandparents and literally feel their love? What does it feel like to take a walk with the love of your life for over 10km on Saturday mornings? What does it feel like to talk to that friend every day without running out of what to say? What does it feel like making mummy proud? What does it feel like playing football without boots on a sandy pitch, with other area guys?

What does it feel like when it was just you and your sister, and no one could separate you? What does it feel like being a bully to your younger brother because that was how you could love him? What does it feel like playing table soccer with him and teaching him almost everything? What does it feel like having a bond with your sister so strong that she cried when you were the one who got beaten? What does it feel like getting excited about helping your mum mark her students’ scripts and reading their essays? What does it feel like getting 6 new pairs of socks from your mother at the beginning of every term and never having to wash them during the week... Or for the most of growing up — not doing laundry at all?

There are a lot of things I want to feel that I can’t any longer, no matter how hard I try. Either they’ve completely faded, or they are about to. 

Time has robbed the beautiful moments from me. Like other humans, I am designed to move on from every feeling, emotion, and moment. Well, except for the ones I constantly nurse. But how many does life allow me to?

I try to stay calm and humble most of the time because I'm reminded that I’m replaceable and the world would do fine without me in it. And sometimes (like right now), I'm filled with guilt, because I do not remember a lot of things. If I do, I'd be happier than I am, I’d be a better child to my parents, and a better person generally.

Of course, I’m always trying hard to be the best version of myself, but I know that if humans didn’t forget, we'd be way better. 

Time steals from us. Time forces us to move on even when we don’t want to. Time robs us of the euphoria of our greatest moments. Time is not kind to the promises we make to our loved ones; it buries the butterflies in our bellies without our permission.

And this is how I’ll reduce the guilt I’ll feel in the future by doing my best in the present:

I’ll write more about the people I love, and write letters to them when I can. I’ll ignore that some people say I love taking photos too much, and I'll never stop capturing moments on my phone. And I’ll live every moment and enjoy it to the fullest… as I’ll never get to live the same moment twice.

Oblivion used to be my fear. I didn’t want to do so much only to be forgotten afterwards. But I’ve grown now. I now understand that it doesn’t matter how good I am, how hard I work, or how badly I want to be remembered, I will still be forgotten. And even if I’m even remembered, I know it will be incomparable to having my presence. Not because of my incapability, but because that’s how life is. And who am I to change the order of the universe?

But I'll find solace in the fact that (if I live long) more things will happen in the future than in the past. So I’ll make sure that I try to enjoy those moments.

I may not always remember the past, but I will live the present to the best of my ability. So help me God!