Conversation

It is a common misconception that people will forget what they distance themselves from, like an eraser on paper. The memories may become hazy but they are still there, lying dormant in our subconscious. I do not remember every moment, but I cannot forget the specifics: an expression, a tone or inflection of voice, well-chosen words, or a touch that left an imprint. Sometimes these specifics become confused with the other thoughts in my head and it is difficult to distinguish the difference between reality and fiction, enhancing or effacing the memory until lie becomes truth and what I remember becomes so much more or less than it actually was. Who is to say it didn't happen exactly as it occurred in my head.

I had a dream last night about someone I haven't seen in almost a year. It was a conversation, and unlike all my other dreams, I didn't actually see the person. Instead, I recognized his voice. I cannot recall what was said between us, but it doesn't matter. It was the familiarity of the voice that makes me feel like it really happened, even after waking up and realizing it did not. Strange how many emotions a single voice can recall.

Someone once told me that we invite our dreams by the thoughts we have entertained, and to an extent I am sure this is true. But there are also dreams that have taken me by surprise, like a person that has been standing behind me and suddenly reappears without warning. It is the unexpected dreams that alarm me because I cannot decipher how deeply my memories have permeated through my head, like a stain that seeps through layers without ever going dry.

I was watching a movie in which two strangers spent an evening together and found mutual attraction. The girl decided she could not prolong the encounter because she did not want to jepeordize a previously formed relationship, to which her companion pleaded that nothing would ever have to happen between them: "We would just be two people finishing a conversation."

This scene has stayed with me because there is a conversation I would sometimes like to finish, one that was cut short without the period at the end. But secretly I know that it is never just a conversation: it is a voice you are not allowed to forget.