Eric Forbes

While sitting today I discovered an effect I’ll call “separation amnesia” – a novel concept according to Google, with the possible exception of a movie “My Amnesia Girl”. The idea of forgetting certain positive memories after separation from a loved one is not new. Now that I have pointer for it, I can see it everywhere I look, with every past relationship I’ve had.

Once the love is gone, I have difficulty remembering any of the good times.

Once he’s gone, only pain comes into view. Nothing else. Just pain and sadness. And staggering amounts of justified anger, critique, and resentment. It’s interesting how memory is filtered according to my prevailing mood. If I’m feeling happy and secure, I can easily recall memories of other happy and secure times in my life, going back decades. But when I’m feeling depressed, such happy moments are inaccessible, walled off, not there. I have a feeling that they occurred, and can be reminded of them by reading my journal, or by looking at pictures or other reminders, but natural recollection is impossible when my mood opposes the feeling tone of the memory in question.

Example: Did M and I ever have moments of happiness? Of course we did. Lots of them.

Then why do I assume that since we’re apart, it’s best not to remember them? That I can admit that we had some good times, keeping it general and avoiding the specifics, as a way to move on to the real issue: how he left me, how he wasn’t as committed, how I should have seen it coming, etc. If I was able to recall vivid memories of us together, of me laying on top of him, suckling his nipple while he stroked his hard cock, for example, that would fill me with joy, connection, peace, and lots of other positive emotions. And that would be a good thing!

But he’s not here. We’re not together, and so EVERYTHING MUST GO! It’s a fire sale, we lost our lease, these are the final days.

Or maybe I’m more complicated that an expired lease on a failed business. Maybe I can allow – and be with – the passing of M and I as a couple and still have some good memories flash into view once in awhile. Can I relax my need to compartmentalize my emotions and feel the sensations instead? I’ve been trying hard not to think of him at all and harder still not to feel good about the time we spent together.

To spite the entire adventure.
To pretend it never happened.
To turn off my memories in that once spectacular arena.

Kill the lights and still, I can see the blazing night sky filled with distant stars. So why do I fight it?

Separation Amnesia – a psychological defense characterized by the forgetting of positive, happy memories of a loved one after physical or emotional separation.

What will I do with this newfound term? I’ve already tested the theory. I’ve seen what I’ve been trying so hard to do – forget him and us together – and it hasn’t worked out well. But it has consumed an enormous amount of energy. So from now on, I will look for positive memories of us together and allow myself to experience them again without him. Without feeling like a failure. Without any expectations. Just to access a part of my history that I’ve been trying to wall off, as a form of self-preservation and protection.

I appreciate the protective side of myself. The side that wants to protect me from harm. Now I see that I can open the gates of memory – my memory – and be safe there. There is nothing in the past that can harm me now. I’m with friends. I am in touch with my body, with love, with life. Consciousness breeds consciousness. Awareness breeds awareness. And so it goes. To the memories.

This heart breaks
wide open with the loss of you.

You’re so close, and yet
I’ll never see you again.

I’ll never see you
the way I used to:
tender,
trusting,
loving so completely.

Memories continue to rise,
impossible embers smoldering
under acres of ash.

This desolate land of lovers
reminds me of us.

The many faces of joy
I used to contribute to,
and now —
try hard not to remember.

Would I forget you
if somehow I could?

Would I rather be smooth
than to see these scars?

Do I care to ignore it?
Could I ever endure it?

Somehow I’ll correlate
the joy and the pain,
the bond and its severance.

A series of tender moments
plowed underground by
slow-motion glaciers.

Watching it all in real-time:
Here. Now.