There is something quite queer and vexing about memories; they are our identity locked inside the vault that is our mind, and yet, many times we don’t let anyone have access to such a vault, not even ourselves. What is it about memories that make the man? More specifically, why do we (or perchance just I) harbor this innate desire to share, express, and convey all the deepest and darkest—and also the most trivial, innate and utterly banal—memories inside our vaults to that special someone? It is, perhaps, the lack of history that two share together? Or, perhaps, it is something more…something greater.

What is it about powerful self-sacrificial Love from all of eternity’s past that she wishes to disrupt her harmonious flow for the sole teleological purpose of allowing others to become sharers, partakers, and lovers with her? I propose that such a wherefore must be left alone without an answer; for many can be garnered but the are, to be sure, anything but sufficient. And so it is with my mind, and my memories, that I desire not to keep them locked up anymore, but to share them with the one who understands the tender and vulnerable nature out of which such memories spring.

Canst thou share with mine memories, meine Liebe?

If my memories were locked hitherto, they are still locked henceforth; but aye, I have given thou thy key into such a vault as I have been describing. The substance is there, and the means has surely now been given, and all that we now lack is the time. Oh, how I long for the aforesaid! Time not to sit idly, but to sit in exploration of each others’ vault, exchanging memories as we exchange gifts. Gifts are exciting, yet sometimes disappointing; but even still, we pretend we like them no matter what, and we smile—for we are thankful just for the opportunity to partake as such…the opportunity to smile at one another and consciously recollect that: we are alive.

In fine, memories are quite queer and vexing but remember, they are treasured as well. What’s more, memories are not stuck in the perfect as some are wont to live in them, but are imperfect since they are always daily be created. Yes, we will create more of these and keep them safe, together, in our vault. For soon, in the blink of an eye, we will remember no more and all will be revealed, open, and exposed as we abide in eternal love forever.

But for now, canst thou share with me, meine Liebe? Canst thou?

-b