Remember Me

Remember me as I am, as I will be, not as I was. So many people allow the past to filter their face-to-face view. Their eyes clouded over with nostalgia, with resentment, with fear. You can’t embrace someone with your vision disturbed. Open your eyes, blink a few times and look again. You might be surprised at what you see. Sometimes we see what we want to see, what we think we see, without actually seeing. Sometimes we forget to see ourselves.

———-

“Remember me,” her body language seemed to suggest, with arms hanging limply yet outstretched. Her eyes–cold, with a hint of pleading, a hint of pain that others didn’t see. “Remember me as heartless, as mean-spirited, as cold and un-kind.” This was what we heard when she spoke. Her defiance, her calculated nature obscured her truth. So, we chose to believe her. When someone shows you who they are, believe them, right? We walked away with our hearts weighed down with anger, with hurt. And she walked away, having pushed those she loved and found they did not want to push back. She walked away empty. The grass was blowing gently, the sun was beaming down. So much beauty in the presence of so much sorrow. We blind ourselves, we delude ourselves into self-righteous indignation and never look back. She looked back, once, and then again. It only took one instance, one moment of time for us to decide she wasn’t worth turning around for. She wasn’t worth the same chances we would have given ourselves. She wasn’t worth the patience we would have wanted ourselves to receive. She wasn’t worth our love, and so we strode off, comfortable in that uncomfortable untruth. I left a piece of me behind that day.

————-

Remember me, then as willing to change. To take chances. I’m never gone, I’m just leaving room for a kinder, more hopeful me. It was that crucial ingredient that meant I had to fade away. Without hope, nothing survives. The plants always hope for sunlight, even in the drought, and they grow in whatever direction the rays kiss their leaves. Without hope nourishing my growth in a new direction, I withered away, but I’m sure the new me will remember me. The new me will be more patient with me. I had no more patience with me; I was not kind to me. How could I be that for others, then? How could I give others what they needed when I was wilting from the inside? My soul could not take it anymore, my heart could not accept it from me. So all I ask is that you remember me, even though I would not remember myself.

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