Hesitant, Hopeful

I opened Facebook the other day to find than an ex-boyfriend from forever ago had liked one of my pictures--when I say forever ago, I mean like, more than 20 years ago. This isn't exactly a new thing, we've been friends on Facebook for several years, and he's occasionally liked my photos or left a short comment. But, for whatever reason, this time it got me thinking about the people I've left behind or moved on from.

Do those people ever think of me? Do I ever occur to them at all or have I become a lost memory? It's not the first time I've wondered, but it's the first time it's sticking. I can't seem to stop thinking about it. I feel like the answer to those questions has to be multi-faceted. It must depend on factors like how close we were, how much time we spent together, and what kind of relationship we shared. But, sometimes I think some people just leave such an indelible mark on your memory that you can't help but think of them. I kind of hope I made that kind of mark on someone, at some point.

For me, it's just once in a while. I'll smell something, or hear a song, or see something that will bring someone to mind. An old friend, an ex-boyfriend, a family member I don't ever speak with anymore. Admittedly, there are some people who crop up more than others and that's likely because they had such a deep impact on who I am now, as a person. For most, I think back fondly, while there are a few that bring such memories of unhappiness screaming forward I'm left feeling pretty rotten.

And it's always the odd memories that crop in, nothing substantial at all, just little bits and pieces of things that you wouldn't think would still be rattling around in there. Hearing the word fuck trudges up memories of high school. Smelling certain soaps brings back memories of... errr, okay, I can't really share that one with you (sorry). One particular Garth Brooks song comes on the radio and I remember a certain older man I dated for a while when I was 18 years old. Pumpkin pie makes me think of my grandmother and, strangely, the time she made home made syrup that was so thick the pancakes stuck to the plate and we couldn't eat them.

But, I also wonder whether those people I think of most and most fondly, are the same people who think of me once in a while. Maybe I'm overthinking the whole thing. Maybe it's simpler than all that and people do occasionally remember me just out of total subconscious inability to prevent it. Hell, I know that I think about some people, sometimes, just because I can't stop the memory from bubbling to the surface. Whether I want that memory or don't.

I suppose, though, that it's just nice to think that someone, somewhere occasionally thinks back and remembers me. ♥