I remember a phrase, or a concept really, that I've picked up from who knows where that suggests that we remember the past through rose tinted glasses. That we only remember the good times and we then assume the whole time was like that. A good example being a TV show, especially back before binge and repeat watching, you really loved it and it was great but then a few years later you watch it again and don't quite get the same feeling. Thats how our memory works I think. I live in the past, and the future, within my thoughts way too often. I even long for a past that I didn't experience. For instance, I can and sometimes do, piece together a version of mid 90's Melbourne cafe/bar culture that i truly long for. Even though I was stay in my room emotional teenager through the 90's, I have enough media and experiences to think of that time as an ideal moment in history.
I remember 3 or so years ago I lived in Highett, a suburb not far from where I grew up and a suburb I had and have fond memories of. I moved there with a friend, it was going to be great and then it imploded. Neither of us handled ourselves well and life went on as life does without anyone being able to step back and fix the problems. Eventually I was left paying the rent and maintaining the house by myself. I couldn't afford it but there was a lease so.... I stayed. Whilst living there by myself and at a time with my pet rabbit, i spent a very solo existence. My evenings after work were spent alone, I didn't interact with too many people on the weekends and my romantic life was very casual. A few years earlier whilst my family home was having a few small renovations, I used some off cut wood to make a large wooden table. This thing is beautiful in its ugliness and if I hadn't made it with my own two hands, id probably dislike it as much as my mother does. It makes a great work/shed table with its different colours and rough surfaces. I had this table as my main desk in Highett and it was covered in multiple locations with a mixture of beer bottles, cd's, books, magazines and my laptop.
I have an incredibly strong memory of being completely content sitting at this desk. Spend a whole day drinking coffee/beer and just wandering around the internet. Life was never and will never be as complete and content as this memory. I probably wasn't then as content as the memory makes me feel. The stresses of living in that house are not banished from my mind, yet when I remember sitting at that desk, I feel like there were no problems in my life, as though i was perfect.
We don't remember things the way they were, but always through rose tinted glasses.