I keep forgetting the most monumental times that you hurt or betrayed me.

Sometimes people remind me if they were there to see it, and it takes a while for them to jog my memory. They ask how I could forget such a thing, and I would just shake my head in embarrassment.

Now I count the memory loss as a blessing, and if someone does remind me of things long forgotten, that's fine too because then I just have one more little piece of the story. Of my story. Like a puzzle, a never ending mystery, one that I don't really care to solve but the occasional clues are interesting nonetheless.