Do past memories dictate present realities?

She looked up, her face soaked with pain, and stared at me like I'd just solved the riddle of the Sphinx. And she said, "I don't know. I've been so engrossed with thoughts of him, that I've never stopped to ask myself what I want or what it all means. I just wanted it to stop."

And, as if I'd healed her, she got up, dried the remaining tears, and thanked me for listening. She gathered her thing and told me she'd give me a call later. I hugged her and told her the lie that every good, distant friend must say, simply because it sounds good, "everything will be fine." But, in truth, I had no idea what I'd done or whether I helped or hurt her marriage and her situation in general.

Spirit left me with a question mark hanging over my head. Why can't she forget? How is it that she'd literally x'ed this individual, whom she never met in real life, out of her life, but he still managed to own her every waking thoughts? Why did she remember so intently when her own life was so, for lack of better terms, perfect? She had a great husband, no children, and an active life style that literally placed her in the center of any happening social scene. She wasn’t bored or lacking change. So, what was it?

I, for lack of better words, was and remain, clueless. So, I do what I do best, I write in the vein hopes that readers who understand this situation better than I, can provide deeper insight. Because now, I am even more concerned for her, and for myself. As a writer, not knowing, is never an option. Thus, it is my duty to find out.

I hurt for Spirit, but there is something within me that wants to blame her for her own problem, because I mean really, who starts an affair with someone in a chat room? Especially when life is exciting without it? She had what every single woman longed for, and she was screwing it up with this virtual nonsense, and she wanted my sympathies, or at the very least my understanding. But, I don't understand, and  there is a part of me that feels this way.

The other, more investigative side of me, wants to know why and how things like this even happen. And, why can't she just forget?


In order to comment on, you'll need to be logged in. You'll be given the option to log in or create an account when you publish your comment. If you do not log in or create an account, your comment will not be displayed.