Memory is the best backstabber known to humanity. Makes you think fondly of a person you shouldn't have met. Forget he hated you, or she always thought she could do better. Forget you never tried to work at it. Make you "remember" that you "gave your all" and it wasn't right because "y'all" just couldn't get along." It's the ultimate penis-pleaser. Slaps you softly until you see things its way. Romance your stubborn insecurities. Slide its hand in your pants...caresses your soft parts. Calls you master...king...diva...make you love yourself too much. Gives you the part of the hero or martyr...instead of the villain. Lies to you so damn well...
...calls you the nice guy even though you know you're a bastard. Calls you "Sweetie" when you know you're a bitch. Your best friend. Your best enemy. Your interpretation of how things should have gone. Your cowardly perception. Your secret wishes. Your apologies, without acceptance.
Memory (or lack thereof) helps you sleep at night forgetting the love...loving to forget the object...
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