It’s hard to accept that people have a past; a past in which they may carry a burden, a dark secret or a first lover. It’s even harder to fathom the thought that this past will once again resurface. It’s amazing how we meet someone and all we really know is perhaps a name and a face. We simply might remember the snub nose or the freckles but little do we know that each individual may have cried themselves to sleep or something that makes them uneasy every day. That’s the beauty of mystery. We all hold one. No amount of pictures or tweets could possibly show this mystery. You may ponder on the scapegoats of social network and falsify a possible persona, truth is the truth is far from reach.
Sometimes rekindling an old flame can be toxic. We say it’s only a temporary thing and we won’t get emotionally involved, but lying to oneself is easy. You lie and tell everyone that there are no feelings. Yet, you can’t even believe it yourself. You know that the feelings are undeniably there and memories of the past eat you. It’s the comfort of love and affection, and we all desire it. Some of us can’t help but soak up all of it even if it means reliving your first kiss or fist dance.
Regardless, the past is scary it can remind us of our greatest fear and create a serious of new fears. We all have a past and some of us hide it very well. We hide the sorrow in a loud laugh and hide the heartbreak in the batting of our eyelashes. We’re books with ripped pages and folds. We appear to be yet all fail to really see.