All I can say about pain is that in time it, too, will become a distant memory.
So many things in my life I am unable to recall, so many moments no doubt excruciating for my heart.
I labored for over 24 hours in some of the weirdest and most intense pain of my life and honestly I can hardly recall it now. The only thing getting me through each contraction was the ability to let pain lie in the past.
I’ve cried so many tears in my life and yet the memory is so soft and faded now. In those moments it felt unbearable. Yet now the image is suspended and I am unconnected to it. A story I tell myself, for otherwise it would die.
Our pasts are a story we keep telling ourselves to explain present day things. You tell yourself that you are a certain way because of some personal haunting from ghosts that cease to exist the moment you bury them. So why keep torturing ourselves with ghostly remains? I suppose it’s human to do so.