Memories. The images and experiences we bundle up in our heads. Theoretically, these help detail us into the people we are and why we hold the beliefs and values we do. Memories make us... us, in some ways. Memories a living document. There's always room for change, or perhaps, it will linger in your head. But when a memory is still fresh off the oven of reality, what is the transitional phase between present... and history?

Perhaps it's a metamorphosis similar to that of maturing brains in teenagers. Or maybe it's an individual happening, characteristic to each person. Sometimes, this transition isn't necessarily pain enduing, in fact, it can sometimes be a joyous occasion.

For her, this transition was trying to piece together why reality becomes memory much before its time. Like a death of a brilliant soul, the mourning lingers in her brain. Mourning not of what she had and what was, but what could've been. The possibility of greatness, disintegrated by a misguided soul. She holds her hopes high, and often times, at the sight of ridicule. Her optimism, though by definition can fail her, had motivated her to do incredible things. But these memories she holds are responsible for the places she inhabits now. Is there anyway to thank a memory for pushing you in the right direction, while yet, forgetting about it? But perhaps, is there a cap? To every single person we meet, maybe there's only so much we can learn from one person.

Her mind concluded otherwise. There's always a lesson to be learned from a human being. Why it had ended the way it had, racked her brain like an unsolvable math problem. Like emotional calculus, she considered every element only to behold the answer is a question mark. The question mark of human emotion that can't be logically dissected, but instead, interpreted like an ancient and mysterious art. The driving forces of love, what ends, what builds and what destroys are all mental paths that usually begin many a months, weeks, days, perhaps even years to its execution. The subtle everyday changes we make build up into a division, like the Great Wall, of morals. These changes, on both sides, made so drastically and in opposite direction leads to nothing but conflict within the two. One may try to fix it, as was always her role, but in the case of this change, both parties summarily give up. She behaved like party who tried, then later was forced to eat her own heart, would do. Anger. She felt the sting of betrayl as she tried her hardest to retain a heart that was melting out of her fingers with a fiery burn of contempt and distaste.

It was the aspect of complete shock. At one moment, this person was the only thing keeping her sanity, her driving force, and the one person that would listen. By the time that all that had paid off for her, and she was ready to give back to him what he had given her, he was gone, distasteful of her and everything she stood for.

She angered him, in his morals and who he was. Perhaps, her malice would only to be expected. Only to be written up in vain, she had mislead someone who played a massive part of her life. He provided her with laughter, charm, and unquestionable love. In their brightest days, they were the sight of adornment. At their darkest, they were what was to be expected. Her cracked her heavy heart, and freed it of the chains of shyness, fear and insecurity. He freed her mind, and now, will never be there to witness the fruit of his labor. Though she knows what he gave to her, it's only up to him what she gave to him. She holds the broken shackles of her mind's jail as a bizarre souvenir to an unexplainable turn.

Perhaps she was so concerned with her own demons, she forgot what was important to her. Whatever the cause or the case, it boggles her mind, like a constant puzzle. Sights of the city, becoming metaphorical pieces set before her, for her to piece together in her mind. But perhaps, it was the one equation she couldn't solve, the symbiotic love she once shared with someone. She contemplates; does love ever really die? She would contest that it's an emotion, that can transform, but is never really gone. As people change, their emotions for each other change. What they loved then and what they love now will become two different things. A gradual change, but scary when it happens in a blink of an eye. It's the transition between who you used to be and who you are now, and remembering how you got there. Though not all in his favor, she will never precisely thank him for all he had taught.

Maybe, in all this confusion, in the fog of mathematical emotion, she's just lying to herself. Her optimism forces her mind to believe there still good there to be had. But as the words of communication fell the day her heart did, it only leaves so much to wonder. Wonder. The driving force of imagination and invention, but a torment of the human mind. We wonder too far, we loose sight of our reality, only wandering further into the unknown, and what then leads into the unreal and abstract. Wonder is used to solve problems, but can sometimes become a demon in a mind. Haunting you with the could be's, and the possibilities of the ultimately impossible presented by our imaginations.

Is anything ever truly broken? A soul, a heart, a relationship, a family. Even in acts of what could be contested as pure evil in humanity, is there still a relic of human sympathy to be had? Where does the line between humanity and evil come to play. In such a case, where humans become so headstrong in their beliefs, wondering to far into their own mental unknown, that the aspect of humanity is stripped of them. Is broken when that humility disappears, converted to nothing but the seven sins of human nature? Even in the word sin, sins evoke an existing emotion, showing that it's still there. Is humility so converted, because of situations, there is no future to be had? If morals clash hard enough, will humility cease and only the negatives appear? When thought of abstractly, is war nothing but a massacre on morals with not a drop of humility? Are we realizing that we fight, weather in wars or battles, or our own personal feats, that we are all humans. We all feel, and we all think. Admittedly not the same in any sense, but when the common ground of being is established, wouldn't it seem there's more to be had?

Morals become the juxtapose of dispute. Without disagreement, there would be no opposing side, therefor not showing a difference. Difference in belief and values creates conflict. The further one's morals stray from another's, the less likely they'll associate with that person. Whereas, someone with similar beliefs and values are friends, family and even in some cases loves and significant others. Though clashing personalities may attract, core values still remain. Even in the simple realms of politics, alcohol consumption and even one's most valued goal in life itself. They will clash, like the war on Terrorism. A blind war on an unexplained and undefined enemy. An enemy whose only crime is to think differently, and when humanity is compromised, do we act. Terrorism is a comprise in humanity, seeing their target as nothing but evil. When thought, wouldn't that make Americans terrorists to them?

There's an opposing argument to every statement, a different viewpoint on even a blade of grass. The most minimal and trivial aspects of day to day life compile the composite of morals, therefor helping build a human being.

In essence, her morals clashed, as did his. She wanted peace, yet he wasn't ready for what her mind had morphed into. Like a child growing out of a pair of trousers, or a t-shirt worn to capacity, we will seek something new to replenish the void. Some will replace them with a more suiting version of what they had before. Others will shift in entirety, curious to how far it will take them. The cycle continues, like a snake shedding its skin. Like a human shedding their moral core.

Hence memories, with every memory, there is a new aspect presented to our psyche, therefor, even subconsciously, compelling us to reexamine our "morals." For some, their morals will suffice for many years, for others, it could change year by year. We are presented with challenges, and it's up to our morals and logical capability to solve each one in the most desirable fashion for ourselves.

And she respects his decision, as she happily looks toward her future. Sure in her morals, she will thank her past, only to live on with her present and future. Her heart has found a place to reside in, a place that feels more at home than the one she had claimed before. In a person with a solid foundation like hers. She found a like. Before, her like had changed and changed to a parameter that they could no longer associate on together. Not in hatred or in intention did this happen, but only the human psyche, especially in transition from childhood to adult hood, that it did. Maybe there is no real composite of what it is when a human grows, only presented with more abstraction and allowing them to define their morals further into who they are.

She rested her head, weary of her emotional calculus. Only then did she relax, a lesson taught to her by someone who was, at one time, very special to her. An old love. And she looked ahead to tomorrow, happy in what it could bring, and even more ecstatic to hear her love's voice once more, a lesson taught to her by her new love.

She was ready to leave the town she loved, but this time, not in haste of the impact the people in it had left on her. If they somehow cross her path again someday, she will happily accept it. But as for now, they are a memory, to who she is, and who she will become. They are an aspect, and at her age, a large aspect, to who she is and will be. And now, she has the driving force of a supporting, loving and encouraging best friend. A true love.

She rested her eyes in slumber, resting in a weary exhaust.

The morning sun will shine upon her again tomorrow, and she will be happier than ever to be alive.