Am I the only one?
I sit waiting in a cozy booth at a restaurant. A table for four occupied, for the time being, by only me. They’re on their way – I can’t wait to see them. An evening with hubby and another couple, no kids, good food, maybe even dessert.
But for now I wait. And waiting involves thinking.
I play a game I often play – “last time / next time” I call it. What was the last time I was here? Can I remember – how many details can I recall? And then, try to imagine, when will I be here again? For a birthday? Just because?
It takes me a minute to remember the last time. Dinner with friends? Was that it? No wait, it was a birthday. Right.
It comes back to me.
A night that started off well but didn’t end that way. Details not worth rehashing here but I re-live them in my head. A disagreement, a misunderstanding. Everyday things that happen every day.
But it makes me wonder (again). Why can I remember the difficult times so clearly? I can remember the nuance, the look, what was said and left unsaid. The ‘bad’ memories rush back so much more quickly than the ‘good’ ones.
Is it just me? Am I the only one who does this?
It’s like I etch these moments so deep in my mind that the good memories have less room to stick – and instead fade so quickly.
I remember words said in anger, criticisms that made me flinch, sighs of exasperation and looks of frustration. I remember the 2 things I did wrong; but not the 8 that I did right.
Tonight will be a good night, I’m sure. And I will try to hold the memory close, the sound of the laughter, the feeling of connection, and hope that it stays.
I will try to colour over the last time with new memories and maybe, just maybe, they’ll stick.