Expecting consistency is unfair; I let go of everything when I finally realized it. My original idea for this entry was to communicate a painful moment from nearly ten years ago, but I won’t say a word about the details. And while I’ll always have time to contemplate it, right now I don’t even remember what I wanted to say: despite my memory of the tears and sorrow, I’ve totally forgotten all words or even the true source — and I’m okay with that.

There was a time when I forced myself to relive the worst so I could remember it. Back then I wasn’t always so forgiving of my expectations or my self, but that was when I thought direction mattered — that was when I had values. Today I don’t, so the past is unimportant.

Since that agonizing period of my life, I’ve changed and grown to better understand how little significance my thoughts and judgments and experience really hold. That’s because since then — no matter when — the context has changed, just like the person I was when I sat in the shower for hours and cried. And because I seek to be no one now, I’ve learned there is nothing wrong with forgetting who in the past I was and why.