It may not be written down in stone, but it’s written down in paper.
Sometimes it’s near impossible to simply forget. Out of sight out of mind? What happens when you see it again? The tides wash back and you cringe at not only what you’re trying to avoid, but at how easy it was to just forget something so powerful.
The pen is most definitely mightier than the sword. Pens leave scars in the shapes of letters that make up words you once adored. Over time, those scars change in meaning. Opposites are funny that way. They dance together to songs only one hears when the other follows a completely different melody. Yet somehow, they flow perfectly and understand each other. Love and hate, treasure and trash, laughter and tears; Father Time cannot be kind in such manners.
But you are not the child of what shifts the two extremes. They are but the definition of subjects that apparently goes through identity crisis much too often. And there’s just no use in holding on to what became hate, trash, tears. Everything has it’s place.
So, should the page be turned? It can be respected and acknowledged in what it is, what it was, and what it always will be. You can look back to it and smile in memory. You can thank the writer for giving you a memory.
But isn’t it much easier to just tear it off? Why remember and feel what it is, what it was, and what it shouldn’t be? This can be the only scar you can fully get rid of with a simple tug. Maybe it’s that easy.
Maybe the book should be closed. Find the shelf again. It’s time to start a new one.