No One Knows This About Me
No one knows this about me. No, I am not about to tell you about something dull or creepy. However I am going to write about something really personal still, something nobody knows about. You see, I am the kind of person who gives a lot of importance to memories and what they represent. Memories, which enables you to remember people, events, things and so on from the past. It can be a thought, an object, a song… It can take all forms really. As long as it reminds you of something, someone, it makes it a memory. Whether it makes you cheerful or sad, it is primordial to remember.
As a child I always kept small things like clothe tags, cinema tickets, photos… Whatever it was, just because it meant something to me. It brought me back to special places and moments shared with very special people. It was and still is a habit of mine. For a few years now, I have been collecting these little objects and putting them into a box. The funny thing is, there is absolutely nothing special about this box I am putting my precious memories into. It is just a plain box, as simple as it can possibly be. Still, I am keeping it inside my closet. Hidden away where no one can see it. Why, you must be wondering? To be honest I would not be able to give you a straight answer. Maybe I like that I am the only one knowing its existence. It makes it even more private, special. I am the only one to know about it. Maybe I like the idea of these memories being kept safe and the fact that no one knows about it. My thing. I could share it and tell the existence of this box. But I just never did. I am doing it now. It is not even a big secret, something I am or should be ashamed of. I just never did. It is as simple as that.
Some memories are in this box, and some are well kept in my head. Truth is, some memories just can not be collected nor can they be materialised; which often makes them the best ones. The ones you can only remember and play once again in your head. I often think I am keeping all these little objects not to not forget, but to remember. Subtle, I know, but important choice of words here. The memories that are only in my mind I know I will remember forever. They are priceless. Yes, photos have the ability to capture a moment and they are a bit like return tickets to past moments, but in fact only the human body can capture memories properly : a funny joke, a face expression, sorrow, love, hope…
You are living life without even realising you are making memories, but once it is over, it is in your head and it will remain there. It is only after that you realise it has become part of you, of your memory. If you feel sad when it is over, just remind yourself nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember. Sometimes I open my closet and find the box. Sometimes I choose not to open it and think about what is inside instead; because I can picture exactly what is in there and why. Sometimes I choose to go for it and to open it. It contains different kind of things and objects from my cat’s necklace to plane tickets. It contains smells, colours… An infinite diversity of things. And when I see all of that I have plenty of images flowing through my mind, when it is not in front of my eyes really but actually in my head. At this point I generally have a smile on my face. I am happy to have lots of memories facing me all at once. It is overwhelming; in the best way.
That said, I might have to get a bigger box. It is getting pretty full. My head as well is full of memories, but I never get tired of making it even more full. It never is full enough of memories. One of the most incredible things about the human brain is that there, space is unlimited. Yes, just like the Cloud. And I firmly plan to continue use that unlimited space. Make memories people.
