Memories, they’re such a bitch.

It’s funny how memories work. When you’re with someone, all the memories you have are mostly the bad ones, the ones where you fought about something, or the ones where someone did something bad. But when you’re no longer with them, the memories you have of them are the good memories. The times you’ve had, the silly things you would do together.

When I was with Jack, I’m always reminded of how we’re constantly fighting, how he would always put me before his friends, how he would always choose gaming over me, how he can never stay up to talk to me, how he’s always nagging at me about something I’m not doing right. I would always complain about how he never does anything fun with me anymore, and how he never do what he did for me anymore.

Now that I’m not with him anymore, the memories I have are so pleasant it kills me. I remember the times we would be in my room, and go on Youtube to search for videos with lyrics and we would sing at the top of our voices even though we sound horrible. I remember the times when he would cycle/blade to my house to eat with me albeit staying so far away. I remember the times when we would go on picnics and decide that it is boring every time we were at a picnic. I remember the times when we were gaming together because I couldn’t get him to stop, so I joined him. I remember the times when he found it bewildering when I couldn’t stop playing Diablo3, and I told him that revenge is sweet and karma has come to bite him in his ass. I remember the times when we just sat there in each other’s presence and were comfortable. I remember the times when we just snuggled and even though he was obviously sleeping, I was happy. I remember the times when I pinched his nose when he was sleeping because I hate how he always fall asleep before me. I remember the times I would make a fuss and wake him up just because I don’t want to sleep, and he would be so reluctant but he would make an attempt to wake up anyway. I remember him coming to get me when I drank too much, even though it was late and even though it was not logical to come get me from a friend’s house. I remember him putting me to bed when I had a little too much to drink. I remember always going to his games, sitting in the spectator stand, and watching him do his thing. I remember this one time we were fighting, and I went to his game anyway, and I left just before the game ended. I remember him drying my tears every time I cried. I remember the first time he’s ever made something for me, strawberries dipped in chocolate. I remember him always bringing me to dinner dates. I could go on and on about the good memories we’ve had together.

Yet, the bad memories took up the bulk of my relationship when I was with Jack. After penning this down, I don’t even know why I was mad at him when I was. I don’t even know why I was unhappy about my relationship with him anymore.

Maybe I needed to know that I wasn’t unhappy. I know now, but I lost happiness.

If only someone had told me how memories work.

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