The Past needs to stay there, they say.

Romanticized memories, made so by glass-half-full optimism and naivety. Or was it self-preservation? I suppose it was.

Is.

Blips from long ago, like jagged stone, tumbled and molded by the river of life. Transformed into smooth, round rocks that glow burnt orange and mustard yellow under the shimmery surface. I’m mesmerized by their simplicity. Content.

I take one out of the water to inspect it further. See it for what it really is.

It’s ugly, jagged stone.

I recoil and throw it back in the water where it can beautiful again. Clean. Harmless.

After the stone breaks the surface, ripples continue as far as I can see. This gives me clarity.

I understand now why the past is still here.

Ripples.

I don’t blame her. But I do.

I hate her. But I don’t.

I resent her. Yet I try to have perspective.

I lean over the bank to see my reflection.

But too often, it’s hers that stares back at me.

The horror.

The beauty.

Do you find silver-linings in things that don’t deserve them? Do parts of your past still ripple into the present? Have you ever seen yourself in someone you don’t like? Share your thoughts, I’d love to hear them.