I absolutely hate it when I forget.
I swear it’s the worst feeling ever because I tend to forget the most important things and it makes me feel so inadequate, seem inadequate to the people surrounding me.
It’s a curse
If you were to ask my Mom about it she would agree and say that I forget a lot. She thinks I’m careless.
Walking over to the building that I’m in right now, I totally had something to say, something that I wanted to blog so desperately but I forgot.
Yet to forget is the freedom that is granted to such few. The freedom to forget anger and hate.
I have the sweet ability to forget and forgive – not that one is necessary for the other, but merely easier.
I still wish I remembered what I wanted to say.