I was reading an interview Justin Vernon did for The FADER in which he states "I’m past the record, but I recognize that somewhere in the world, someone is hearing it for the first time. But if you spend all your time thinking about that, you can’t look forward. I’m already working on stuff that’s going to piss some people off because it’s not going to sound anything like that."
It got me thinking. To grow in this life, you have to find the balance between learning from your past and letting it dictate your future. It's beautiful how the life-changing events of falling in love, falling out of love and death of a loved one can connect us all, and yet these same events suffocate. Where do I fall on this continuum?
I hang onto stuff. Let things linger around and fester a bit.
Gifts, letters, notes, flowers ...shriveled and dried now, but memories of love. Pictures, paintings, receipts, plane tickets, movie stubs. shit. I'm not sure why I enjoy revisiting my past so. Reopening scabbed over feelings better left forgotten. I keep them to learn? To remember how things once were? Who I once was?
Here are some texts I couldn't bring myself to delete for reasons I'll never fully know:
Imagine if you'd never felt love. If you never knew that feeling of being so connected to another human that you feel yourself smile simply because they do or you feel your heart ache when theirs does. If you'd never felt that, you would be missing out. To feel that is a risky game that ensures heartache as its final play. --Wednesday, November 12, 2008. 7:08pm.
I remember this night all too vividly. My heart hurts, stomach turns just rereading the text. This was the start of my insomnia bout. I'd lost close to 11 pounds in a matter of two weeks. I couldn't eat. I couldn't keep anything down. I loved him so much. It's hard to see the light in nights like those. A friend from back home pulled me out of this one. so sincere.
This could sound totally random, but I could go for a nice run and heart to heart talk with a long lost friend. Long over due. You're a great friend. -- Monday, February 9, 2009. 11:06pm
Ah! I smiled so big when I got this message. A long lost friend indeed. We hadn't talked, really talked in years. Reconnecting with him brought a piece of me back. I'd missed Bleeding Swan.
But they are all into the artist type. I don't have a chance with them. --Monday, June 15, 2009. 1:39pm
Why he likes me, I'll never know. None-the-less, it's comforting to have someone in your life that thinks you shit sunshine. He loves to tease me about my 'type.' I know he'll always be a part of my life. I aim to never abuse our friendship; it's too valuable much to risk. I wish he was my type.
Sometimes i miss you --Thursday, October 8, 2009. 3:51am
Letting him go meant promising myself that previous sentiments he made were done so in states of loneliness. I forced myself believe I had imagined any sort of true connection, and I was doing good. His robotic transformation was almost complete. This text really took me by surprise. human after all? Maybe I hadn't imagined it. It helps me justify those months of sadness. Sometimes, I miss him. We were never real friends. It's a shame.
You've got to be the weirdest girl I've met. Wonderfully weird.--Monday, December 16, 2009. 1:13am
Two months of awkward bliss. Intertwined in each others' oddities. I keep this text more for the perspective than the memory of the boy who wrote it. He's the nicest guy I've ever been with. Inevitably, that was his undoing. I broke up with him eight times in one month. I'm a Bitch. Ha! I wasn't comfortable being treated good. I can't explain it, but when I read this text, it reminds me that I'm ok. It reminds me that I need to see this in myself. Not to say I don't love myself, but I'm just struggling with who I'm becoming, where I'm headed, and I don't want to lean on anyone.
You're in an awesome TV show!! At least she looks exactly like you! You have to admit, there are some similarities!! --Sunday, January 31, 2010. 6:50pm
Fuck. Ha!! This one got me laughing! Naturally, I assumed he was fucking with me. I don't know which part is more upsetting, the fact that I'm no where near as foxy as Ms. Legend of the Seeker, or that my ex of three years, my first love, wouldn't recognize me on the street. He was so good to me, but once again, I was a huge bitch. One time he spent weeks learning to knit me a scarf in my favorite color even, and I explained I already had a teal one, but could use a red one. I know, wow! I've definitely learned from that relation. But this text serves as more than a just reminder to not be such a bitch. Finally, almost three years after the break, we're genuine friends. None of that bullshit lingering feelings/hidden ulterior motives shit. It gives me hope to finding resolution with all previous loves.
insert Bon Iver's new album title here.