Letters to July – Sixteenth

I’m going to try and blog every day during July as part of Letters to July. It’s probably a bad idea.
Dear July,
Keeping a diary every day changes the way you remember. Memory is so often a constructed narrative basedon (inspired by) actual events. We keep things in and leave things out based on how well they fit the story. Memory is flawed. It’s a glossy, fragmented story designed to help us make sense of a lot of things that don’t make sense.
My diaries are memories without the editing. Or rather, they are edited by the person I was when I wrote them (as close as I can get to the person I was when the things happened). They let me remember who that person was in a way I could never do with memory alone.
My favourite thing about them is the narratives they give me, the ones that would otherwise be lost. Three years ago, a boy sent me a text that said “I’m now sitting in the photo development section of Big W because my feet are tired of looking at playdough and toys and coloured paper”. Last week I was sitting in the same Big W, in the same photo development section, printing photos of that boy (now boyfriend) for his birthday. Neither of those things is important enough to remember but both were important enough to write down when they happened.
Basically, my diaries make me feel a lot of things that are very complicated. They’re big, complex, important feeling feelings. They’re also completely impossible to articulate in a way that makes them matter to anyone but me. Which is hard, July, because to me they matter an awful lot.
Alex x
Letters to July is a project started by Emily Diana Ruth. For more information, click here.

Further reading

December – home

I spent the first minutes of 2018 on the beach. I’ve never actually spent New Year