I wonder how much of what we remember is just our imagination being cruel (merciful?)
When I say “love” I don’t really mean Love. When I say “hate” I don’t really mean Hate. Sometimes words just pop up uninvited when you don’t mean them, and then suddenly you do [mean them], and then before you know it, you’re stuck in this whole mess of loves and hates and in an instant everyone’s confused. And then everyone accepts. And everyone moves on. And forgets, and someday, hopefully, remembers.
