Memories

You have to pick up the pieces.

gb-creative

You remember what it was like. Before the nightmare. Before all of this. Every second the memories of better days run through you at the speed of light, never ending and never ceasing. You remember your family. You remember your friends. You remember the time spent together. Your life, your passion, your happiness. But all of that is gone. All that was is now nothing at all. You can’t handle this and eventually you stop trying. Now you sit, alone among the shattered pieces of your mind, with nothing to keep you company but the memories.

There must be a reason. There has to be a reason. Things were so much better before this, so what went wrong? You try and you try and you try, but you don’t understand. You can’t understand. Despite all this, here you are. You lay among the rubble of your thoughts, and you don’t know what to do. What can you do? With the memories flooding your mind, you begin to build. There’s nothing you can do but pick up the pieces.

You look upon your creation. It feels like forever since you started, but it feels as though you’ve done nothing. You get frustrated. You want to scream. You want to fight. You want to cry. But most of all, you just want it to be over. Things will never be the same. You’ll never be the same. Even the memories are starting to fade now. You can’t remember who you were before this. You can’t remember anything. It makes you sick, and you want to stop. But if you stop, what do you have? You continue to build.

Time has passed. Has it been days? Months? Years? You can’t remember anything, so you build, for it’s all you can do. And you’ve improved. The anger is gone, though the sadness remains. Things will never be normal again, but they can get better. And so you build and you build and you build, and you hope that one day things will be good again. Hope is all you have. Hope will keep you alive.

You continue to struggle. Your hands burn and singe, a thousand cuts digging deep into you as you pick up the broken pieces. You cry out in pain at the struggle, and it takes all you have just to keep moving. Part of you thinks you’ll never put it back together. But that same part of you never thought you’d make it this far. So you keep going, hoping that you’ll prove that part of you wrong. You have to prove it wrong. You don’t think about what will happen if you don’t.

Your world was in shambles. Shattered into a million pieces, you thought you’d never put the pieces back together. And you didn’t. You don’t remember what you used to be, or what things used to be like. But you’ve made something new out of the rubble. And as you stare at it, you finally feel happy. Things will never be easy, but they don’t have to be. You’ll make it, because you have to. And you’ll make new memories. They won’t always be the best, but they’ll be yours. And these memories will last forever.




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