The Reminder
This morning, my phone flashed a message:
“It’s been one year since your last memory curation. Would you like to edit your past?”
These days, everyone edits their memories.
Friends talk over coffee about how they erased breakups, arguments, and bad nights from their minds.
They say they feel lighter, happier.
My Experience
I’ve only used the app twice.
Once, to make the memory of my father’s funeral softer.
Once, after losing someone I loved deeply.
Both times, the memories didn’t fully disappear.
Instead, they left a strange emptiness, like something was missing.
Remembering Everything
Tonight, I sat by the window and looked through my old memories:
- My first kiss
- The smell of the sea in Paros
- Rain on my old apartment’s roof
- A friendship ending for no reason
And the hardest memory—
the day he told me he was leaving.
His voice was soft. His hands held mine until the last moment.
The app asked if I wanted to remove the pain, fade the memory, or mute the feelings.
But I always said “no.”
Why I Keep the Pain
I want to feel everything—
the happiness, the heartbreak, the hope, and the loss.
People say life is easier when you erase the hard parts.
But I wonder:
If we forget too much, do we lose what makes us human?
Maybe pain keeps us honest.
Maybe feeling deeply is how we know we’re alive.
My Choice
I closed the app and let myself feel the old sorrow,
not as a punishment, but as proof I’m alive.
I would rather remember everything—even the hard parts—
than feel nothing at all.
Tonight, I’ll dream about the past,
uncurated, unedited, real.
Maybe I’ll wake up softer. Maybe not.
But I’ll remember.
