Forgetting, It Happens.

Did I ever tell you about the time I found one of my friends in my basement?

That's a funny story, I should tell it to you sometime.


School started...Yay. *Makes pouty face and squints eyes*

In Science I learned about the Moon, elementary, I know, but hey, we forget things...

I wonder if the Moon is offended that we don't visit it anymore...Sorry, would if I could.



Today I listened to possibly the most depressing song ever. :( It reminds me of the time I moved to Minnesota, and also the time I left Minnesota for the place of my dreams.

The smallest things remind me of what life was like before, during, and after the move. When I play soccer it reminds me of the joyous times I played pick-up soccer games with mostly college/highschool guys, I miss those goofs.

Now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE it here in Indy, hence the bold text, italicized, AND the underlining. (That means it's pretty intense) But I miss the memories in Minnesota, even the plain-ness of the area, there was something unique about it. It was almost mysterious, almost. It was almost pleasing to live there, almost.
It was only almost there. The right person will see it fully there.

I guess I'm just not that type of person.

I tried really hard not to like it there. I wouldn't accept the fact that I was turning into a true Minnesotan. People say I have the accent, I mourn when I hear that.

"So little to remember, so much to forget."

But here's the thing...

I still remember it.

I remember everything.

The sadness, the happiness, the jokes, the laughs, the memories.

I remember it all.

It left a mark on me, almost permanent, almost.

"I'm a better man than I was before, knowing you has made me strong.

I sure am gonna miss you when I'm gone."


I dreaded saying goodbye, not only to the people, but the memories that were held there. They'll soon vanish, they'll be forgotten. It will be like I never even took a breath there, just like I always wished. People forget, they always do, always will.


My good friend, Seth, let's talk about him for a bit.

I met him two days before I moved to Minnesota. I didn't contact him within the two years I was gone; but every time I visited, he came up to me with a smile and embraced me in a hug. I only saw him twice within those two years, but he never forgot me.

Now I'm back, we still talk, we're good friends.

Here's what stands out to me:

I only met him two days before I moved, I hung out with him for two hours.  One of my best friends that I've known since 3rd grade didn't know my name. I've lost friendships in Indiana from the move, many of them I've known for more than a year, I knew Seth for two hours.

Remembering is a rare thing, half the people I know in Minnesota I can't contact, I have no hold of them. It's like there's a rope but only one person is holding on, and I have no idea which one it is.

I try to believe it's not me, but sometimes I can't help but think maybe I am grasping on to the little bit of Minnesota I can't have.

No matter how much I want to forget it, something is almost holding on, almost.

One thing I can't forget is how much it changed me, it made me who I am. I think when I moved I found myself.

So if someone thinks I've changed after I moved back to Indiana, I changed into me, the real me.


This is who I am.