Why I don't delete

After bitching about how embarrassed I was over this Mr. V business I was asked why I don’t delete the blogs. Or why I don’t delete all of my embarrassing blogs for that matter. I told him that I would lose like 79.5% of everything I’ve ever written if I did that, but the real reason is this

I’ll forget.

It would be nice to erase my mistakes. The times when I was a complete idiot, totally selfish and self indulgent, way too easy, volunteered for chaos, abuse and abandonment under the assumption that I was a victim.

Instead I choose to keep them all logged and tagged for easy referencing. It’s my cheap therapy, my glaring light of truth, a lesson in how not to do things. It’s not a ledger of failures but a reminder of how far I have come.

I have learned a lot from reading about other people’s lives, the words and world they have shared. The bottles they cast fearlessly out into the sea with all the deep, and hidden and hilarious messages. They teach me and inspire me.

These are my stories, the mark of my memory that I am hammering into the world. The thing I will leave behind. Since my body is incapable of creating life I choose to create this instead. My glaring mistakes, my cringing embarrassments, my non-fatal flaws, my slightly serious shortcomings are very much a part of it and they are to be laughed at and learned from… if not by others then definitely myself.

I forgot a lot of things from my childhood, from my past because I forced myself to. Because of pain, because of embarrassment. There are whole patches, years gone from my memory. I don’t want to forget anymore I want to remember

I want to remember vividly
the faces and names of people who have touched me deeply.
and some of you reading this know you have.
I want to remember
every color, sight and scent
every emotion from sky high soaring joy to earth shattering sadness
the feeling of his hands against my skin
the press of her lips against my own
how the dawn looked as I headed west with a full tank of gas and a heart full of unquestioning, unwavering love
how the terms "heartbreak and heart wenching" are painfully accurate 
how the cold the warm rain felt against my skin as I carried the last box out of our home

I don’t want to forget because the ability to experience all of these things is a gift.
So when I am old and gray, when my body has given me up like some Judas in the night. I will have the memories of this life. And I'll laugh and cry and laugh some more.

And be at peace.
Just like I am now.

And this too is something I never ever want to forget.