“ What are we, if not an accumulation of our memories? ”
I want him to be happy. And I want you to be happy, too. Even if you can only find that happiness without me.
~ S.j. Watson
I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd fought for you. I was weak and stupid.
With him everything is a test, affection is measured, that given weighed against that which has been received, and the balance, more often than not, disappointing him.
We’re constantly changing facts, rewriting history to make things easier, to make them fit in with our preferred version of events. We do it automatically. We invent memories. Without thinking. If we tell ourselves something happened often enough we start to believe it, and then we can actually remember it.
