That's why, darling, it's incredible
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable too
Nat King Cole - Unforgettable
Maybe it's a little late to feel like I've finally discovered the meaning of the whole thing, especially considering that meaning - allegedly - has been staring at me from a chorus of an old song all this time. But if you get down to the basics, that's really it. Everything else comes later, if it even comes at all, but that bit is essential, because otherwise - why bother?
But what if I have a terrible memory for faces? And the faces I do manage to remember - or at least that I try the most to forget slower, clinging to incidental photos, putting up little memento altars inside my temples - are often the faces that I won't see again, or if I do it's only going to start another wind (as in 'to wind something up') of the old disappearing trick.
And it's not just faces, you know. I forget days. Months sometimes. Reasons for doing things. Regrets over not doing things. If I'm honest with myself, how much is there really about me that's worth remembering? (and is that why I insist on writing so much down?)
And yet, I felt it. For a short while I felt perhaps not unforgettable - but memorable at least (the kindness of a stranger? or a trick of the trade?). And all of the other parts of the equation just clicked into place with the casual ease of the teeth of a zipper. And the fact that I am still chasing that high days later is telling of how long that particular zipper remained undone. (that's a lousy metaphor, I know, but it fits the subject matter well, like a slinky dress.) Well, I may still be able to get a fix. But like any other drug, it won't last, only leaving me hungrier.
That's why, darling, it's not credible...