Letting go of the Memories

Seven years is apparently not so great a distance between my life as it is and what it used to be. Memories still clog my head as I drive down this familiar road, producing emotion even stronger than the day they actually became memories. I could stay in this place-not now, but then; not here, but in my mind- absolutely forever. Everywhere I look- memories. One of my greatest fears is that my words on paper will not be able to bring to life my emotions, and that my memories will one day become meaningless and lost; it’s as if subconsciously I do not trust my mind to keep them alive. I called a friend tonight and admitted to her that I felt that my life in this place was fading; just the sun descends behind the mountains when its time is up, I feel that my life here is nearing its end. That notion makes me unbelievably remorseful. Listening to my words, one might think that I mean my physical life, however I am speaking of my life as I have known it for the last twenty-two years, which is nearly my whole life, and in some ways just as important.  Possibilities of returning to this place dance about my head and on most such occasions I indulge myself and dream of what it would be like. Perhaps I could regain lost time, or failed relationships, or friends who have moved on; perhaps not. For a few moments I let myself bask in the memories of yesterday, yet reality soon sets in and I hesitantly realize what I have a known all along- that those days are gone. My memories are just that- memories; beautiful, harmonious, once –in-a-lifetime- memories that words on a paper will never be able to adequately describe. My past is gone, my future is the only life that lies before me, dear God, please help me to not be so tangled in my memories.  Let me live for today and help me to look back not with wishful thinking, but only with fondness; for I can not go back, nor should I want to.