I learned today that a computer never really destroys its memory. It marks items as deleted, but the data remains. And if one day, someone decided to take the hardware and reconstruct the data from all the 1’s and 0’s, then they could perfectly recreate all the ‘deleted’ memory.

That seems pretty similar to how I operate. Memories can never really be forgotten. They can only be labeled as such; I vow that I will forget about you, and then suppress all our memories, mentally dragging them to some trash bin hidden in the center of my consciousness. But the memories are still there, they are not destroyed, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t go back and replace all the 1’s with 0’s. If a computer can’t even do it, how do you expect me to?

Apparantly the only way to really get rid of computer memory is to fill it up with so much other memory, that ‘deleted’ memory is overwritten. A computer only has so much capacity. I wonder if human memory is like that. Is there only so much neuronal space, or can new neural connections be created infinitely? Perhaps the only way to erase old memories is to create an abundance of new memories.

I thought of that scene in “Titanic”, when Rose says that a woman’s heart is like a bottomless ocean; you can never know what secrets she harbors in the dark depths of her soul. According to Rose, then, a woman’s capacity is limitless; but as she dropped the diamond into the water, I thought to myself, even oceans have a bottom.

Last night, when you told me the same things you’ve told me over and over, a feeling overcame me – a feeling I thought I had gotten over and forgotten. I was back in your car, hearing you say “I think you’re a bad person, I think you’re a bad person, I think you’re a bad person…

Midnight. Our cars are parked in the shopping center. You hand me my board game and wave goodbye. I’m confused. We had a fight two days ago, and today you act as if we were just friends. Did we break up?

“Wait…” Halfway between me and your car, you turn around. I run towards you. “Are we breaking up?”

“I thought we did a long time ago.”

Frozen. Speechless. I don’t know what to do except stand still. It starts to rain.

“I have to go home now, it’s late.”

I refuse to let you leave. I don’t know what else there is to say, but I know I’m not done saying it.

“Alright, I’ll drive you to your car.”

You say something to me, I can’t remember. All I can remember is “I don’t like you anymore. I think you’re a bad person.” I still can’t leave. Time is passing but I don’t know for how long. You open the passenger door to make it easier. After you realize that I have not helped myself out, you push me. I’m bracing myself against your car frame, crying harder as you apply more force. I can’t let go, knowing that if I let you drive away, you will drive out of my life forever. You give up. You’re going home, you say, let your mom handle me. You start driving.

“Drive back. I’ll get out.” I watch as your Toyota drives away, and I stand there, frozen. Eventually I realize that I should go back in my car, where it’s at least warm and dry. I unlock the door and sit down to find that my entire car is soaking wet. I forgot to close the sunroof.

I break down at that point. As I start the 45 minute drive home, I start to hyperventilate. I want to scream and moan and rip out my insides.  I can’t drive like this.

…I think you’re a bad person. You are not the type of girl I would want to marry.” This whole time I had deluded myself into thinking that you were just saying that. That you wanted me to get over you. I guess you were telling the truth after all.

“You need to forget about me. I can’t love you as much as this other guy loves you.”

After we hung up, I felt all those things again. Wanting at the same time to explode, let the world feel my pain, and to implode, disintegrate quietly into the darkness with no one knowing. It was the first time in the two years since we’ve broken up that I’ve felt that way; the only other time where I felt like I truly lost you.

mood: 2 alone in my room, drinking pumpkin ale

tired: 4

spiritual tiredness: 3