Forgetting What was Never Remembered

I hate when I can't remember things. Like when I got the strawberry Chapstick, or where the apple-flavored sucker on my bed came from. They trigger a memory and I know I've seen them before, I know they are mine, but I don't know when I have seen them and I don't know why they are mine. The memories are less like memories and more like pieces, flashes of something never quite remembered. The candy is in some way connected to my boyfriend and the Chapstick came from Walmart. Perhaps such meaningless trifles aren't worth the worry. Maybe it shouldn't matter that I don't remember something as useless as where an apple sucker came from. Yet it seems to spread.

It does not spread like an infectious disease, spreading from memory to memory until I have none left. I remember a story of what happened at work, but I don't know what day it happened. It is not that I forgot. There was never anything to be forgotten. It is not that I am losing my memories. I am losing the ability to remember. I cannot forget what I never remembered in the first place.

Remembering What was Never Remembered

Sometimes I feel trapped. Trapped in a moment of indecision. It reminds me of a character in a book, feelings induced by words on a page, fodder for the imagination. Some of my strongest memories are not memories at all, or at least they are not my own memories. They are images and sentiments recalled only from words I have read or words I have written. I try to recall the memory, to flesh out the feeling in my mind, only to discover that it never truly existed, therefore it can never be fully felt; it can never be a completely realized thought. At times it is almost disappointing. I love that moment when I am about to remember something. On the brink of recalling a forgotten memory, I pause, physically and mentally, waiting for the familiar feeling of recognition, the understanding that follows my remembrance. When it never comes, it's like waiting for a beautiful promise to be fulfilled only to come to understand that it will never happen, that it never can happen. I cannot truly remember something when it was never mine to remember.