When I let my mind drift, I have flashbacks of my Ex, “Delilah.” One school break, I drove down to Carlsbad, her home town. She was still working and I decided to surprise her. She was elated. While she didn’t get off work for at least another hour, I casually walked around the store while observing how she engaged customers. After she locked up, I practically jumped on her in a festering display of public affection. I was so enamored; it was one of the few times when she told me to hold off. After walking her to her car, I didn’t want to leave her. She understood, and she liked it. I was only too happy to give her my love, and she did the same for me.
Loving someone who loved me in return was one of the fullest "life" experiences I’ve had. (For future reference, now that it’s over, I can also say a few things: Bachelor life is over-rated and while I miss being in love, I know what to look forward to.) Remembering the emotions of loving someone higher than the sky is a memory I need to keep for a rainy day. It’s a great feeling and another reason to enjoy life.
While I’ve been having a lot of flashbacks of Delilah, I’m also forgetting them. I wish I could just write them all down, or copy them to a jump drive for later viewing. Unfortunately, I can’t. It makes me sad to think that a fleeting moment sitting on the toilet may be the last times I remember what was once a precious memory between lovers. Human nature is cruel: When I couldn’t forget these memories, they were too long and painful. Now that I’m starting to lose them, they’re too short and fading. Forgetting these are my true losses and as they said in "Swingers," I will miss the pain. The experiences are no different, but my emotions towards them have changed. They no longer reflect who I’ve lost, but how much I’ve gained.