Remember?

Something should be said for the power of memories. Often we can hide from them, push them away, push away what ever associations we have with them and the implications of those associations. This has often been a source of struggle for me. I've gotten better, in the comparatively recent past, at pushing away thoughts and memories that will have a negative effect on me. Despite this acquired defensive capability, there are times when I can run but I can't hide. Lying in bed at night, relaxing my mind, my guard comes down; my mind begins to glide over a series of memories, usually from the immediate past, the events of that day, and so on. Every so often these probing intangible fingers will come to something more distant and beautiful- they touch upon a memory and vividly, the senses attached to the memory will flood back in exquisite detail and these figurative fingers will stroke and caress the experience, wishing to live it over again. Often at this point I'll realize that this memory shouldn't be touched and the fingers will tense, but the senses are often so clear that they immerse me nonetheless.

-I can clearly picture our surroundings, the line of trees still silhouetted by darkening twilight, the last glimmer of the sun still dancing over the water. I can hear the lap of waves, the swish of gentle movement through water, the murmer of voices from the shore, the sound of your voice. I can smell the lake, the faint campfire smoke, the fresh air, still lukewarm. I can feel the water, fairly pleasant with the patches of cold always found in lakes- the feathery feel of my submerged t-shirt against me, the pull of my water and sand filled shoes, the touch of your skin against mine.. the comfort and laughter and warmth inside of me-

Memory is a very powerful thing my friends, and the happy ones stay the most clear within me.. unfortunately the happy ones often cause the most pain as I mourn the loss of what they represent.

I really do belong in a psychiatrist's office don't I? lol Though at any rate, every thing we have ever seen, heard, felt, is buried within us, even if we lack the ability to access it, and there's no use in denying the bittersweet nature of those we can access. (If only to romaticize it's literary qualities :) )

ANYWAYS, Anton and I learned the cha-cha on Saturday! Now I just need to remember how to spin on the right arm to avoid crashing into him! One-two-cha-cha-cha! So much fun :)
On Saturday night I went home for my Opa's birthday, and magically ended up on the same train as my darling Paul, so awesome to see you! Even though I only ever do when it's randomly at the RT station :P
My parents were making me clutch my ears with their sickening humour while we were playing cards:

Aunt: I want to get as lucky [at cards] as you are Marg
Dad: Yeah, she just got lucky last night
Mom: What?! I don't know what you're talking about... I thought it was this morning!

*shudder*

Should I stop making my posts so long? Are they tedious to get through?
I'll leave you with some eye candy, and the words: suite-mates are awesome!