[12] Memorabilia, and the Preamble.

An Op-Ed about my obsession with "logging" the past, my tendencies to romanticize things, and my attachment to people close to me.

It was only when rummaging through heaps of storage while moving places that my mom was reminded of and reunited with trinkets of her past. I remember watching her as she read over the diaries that she’d written — from the amateur scribbles of a child to the complex worries of a young adult. 

The notion of leaving my mark on history is so appealing. You know, being able to revisit the past through “time capsules” — revisiting memories I’ve experienced through conversations I’ve shared, places I’ve traveled through pictures I’ve taken, and thoughts I’ve once had through paragraphs I’ve written. 

And so, I think I’ve tried to capture the past by “logging” things. You know, the three-paragraph-long reviews on Letterboxd, the daily diary entries (influenced by Toffy), discussions with friends shared over dinner, the carefully curated Spotify playlists that no one listens to, these chopinions articles, the half-assed and infrequent Beli reviews, or the screenshots of insightful chat interactions I’ve shared — all preserved and packaged to be relived by an older me. Obviously, that’s an injustice to what those aforementioned things mean to me (e.g., I love writing for the sake of writing, what it teaches me, how it makes me feel, etc.), but I’m sure there’s a level of “compiling memorabilia” that’s kept me going with these things. 

I love the past, it’s served me so well. A lot of the growth that I’ve made on my character has been a direct result of reflection, and so I’m grateful for the past. I realize today that there’s NEVER been an obstacle I haven’t been able to overcome — I know how much struggle has been in my past, and yet I’m alright now (as per my life principle — good times, bad times). 

I used to romanticize the past — gave it some kind of narrative purpose. For a while, I felt that EVERYTHING that happened in my life had some sort of reason. That it was MY task as the recipient of all occurred things to understand WHY something happened and HOW I could learn from it. 

Hell, I still romanticize it. On paper, I’m always “in the moment,” but sometimes I feel that I’m ONLY doing stuff TODAY so that TOMORROW I’ll be able to look back at YESTERDAY with glee. That’s how I felt about the overnight trip I took to New York with Toffy (the one spent near Jackson Heights) — maybe it’s the [redacted] shenanigans that somewhat ruined the night (for me), but I think I only went on this trip because I wanted to have a unique experience with a prized person that I could look back to. I feel guilty because I DON’T want the people I care about to feel like they’re nostalgia fodder — sure, they MIGHT end up as a memory of a “better time,” but as of right now, they’re everything I could ask for AND MORE. I guess, in this specific scenario, I’m glad I got chances to “redo” those hangouts on a mutual friend’s horse farm or at his graduation ceremony. I made SURE that the time we spent together in these final moments were NOT spent for the sake of being able to RECALL back to those moments, but for the sake of BEING with each other. 

When I became aware of this subtle obsession with wanting to preserve the past, I thought about WHY I wanted to preserve memories with people. Well, that’s as straightforward as it gets — I SINCERELY care about the people with whom I’ve been able to cultivate deep human experiences. On that note, since SO much of my past is affected by my relationships with people, I find myself projecting “ideas” of an “optimal friendship” or a “potential romantic relationship” onto people. Over time, I’ve learned which qualities in people I like, and which I don’t, you know? And so when I’m looking for people to reach out to, I refer to those qualities, which then manifest themselves into those projectable ideas. The problem’s that I get WAY too attached to these “ideas” WAY too quickly and WAY too fondly. 

More problems occur when these ideas align themselves with a person. And since I’m already hopelessly attached to these “ideas,” I find myself quickly infatuated with these people. When conflict inevitably occurs and it becomes time for us to part ways, it’s always difficult. Time passes, and I forget the person — how we spent our time together, the vernacular they spoke in, what their personality was like, and how I felt about them — but the unfortunate feeling of an unfulfilled “idea” lingers. Hell, sometimes I wouldn’t even have HAD a deep relationship with a person, but it’s via my assumptions that a deep relationship COULD have happened (but eventually fell through) that makes it an unfortunate “missed opportunity.” 

And so, I’ve long attempted to realize what the SOLUTION to abstaining from romanticizing the past (and people). I guess the first solution would be to stop romanticizing. But if you’re stuck in a situation where things have ALREADY been romanticized, your next step is to be OK with letting go — to leave things in the past NOT to be revisited BUT to be buried. 

First, realize that things ALWAYS look better in retrospect — whether it’s because it was an enjoyable time or because it taught you something so valuable. Then, second, learn to forgo the desire for redemption, the fear of loss, and the vexation of “having to do it all over again.” And, third, move on — what does that mean? Realizing that analyzing the past for “growth” is NOT moving on. That being open and talking about your problems is NOT moving on. That ignoring or denying reality is NOT moving on. Instead, to move on, realize that you must accept what’s happened and accept that there’s not much more you could (or even should) do. That there MIGHT be a comeback success waiting for you, but the triumph just isn’t worth the likely downfall that lies closer. To realize that there’s a fine line between tenacious ambition and bullish self-sabotage. 

I think a lot of the “misfortune” I find myself in is mostly on my own accord — being unhappy with a “controversial” reputation, finding myself stuck in a suffocating friendship, feeling unprepared for what’s to come, perceiving myself with distaste, and having troubles with girls. It’s an embarrassing realization, but it can easily become uplifting. If it was in my power to fuck myself over, then it’s in my power to undo that. And it’s ESPECIALLY in my power to prevent myself from digging a deeper hole simply because I was scared to ruin a relationship — let go, man. 

Back to the past — ah, fuck, time is so weird. Sometimes a thing that happened six or seven months ago seems like it was just a couple of weeks ago. But then a week-long altercation seems like it’s been going on for months. It’s been less than half a year since I saw Dune: Part Two thrice, but nearly a year since I saw Oppenheimer. It’s been three years since I came to Choate, and yet I feel like I’ve known people here all my life — winter long weekend spent at Aidan’s place, the walk from Walmart with jugs of milk in my hand, trying to fix the power plugs in the tennis courts during freshman spring, lifting weights in the gym, having matches confiscated off of me by Toffy, playing in the symphony orchestra with Sophia, giving gold key tours, studying for APs while listening to KIDS SEE GHOSTS, running sherbet island in Darren’s room, eating lunch with Ethan in the newsroom, calling Danny late at night for advice — and I can’t remember my life without them being in it. 

There’s always this stage of “preamble” (you know, getting to know each other, sharing embarrassing thoughts, reaching out for advice — the whole shebang) that you have with people when you first get to know them and learn to be comfortable sharing things. And because I love the preamble, I love the people I get to share the preamble with.

Sometimes I HATE that I LOVE to seek deep connections with people — the longer the preamble, the more I get attached to the person, and the more painful things become when the relationship just comes to an end. That becomes ESPECIALLY annoying in a romantic relationship (more accurately, a romantic endeavor) — when the preamble leads to no romantic payoff (not that all preamble NEEDS to be substantiated upon, but it would be dishonest to say I’m not vexed at least a little when things don’t turn out the way I hoped they would), but also because I’m forced to detach myself from these confidants or else I’d STAY attached to someone I no longer can have that kind of relationship with — sometimes, I’m not sure if there was a deep relationship, or if it was just another one of those “missed opportunities,” but it sucks nonetheless. 

To make matters worse, as the class of twenty four leave, I watch as PERFECTLY fine relationships are forced to “end” — because these people will no longer be an everyday aspect of my life. I haven’t really gotten to the point where I look back at my time at Choate to long for the “good times” because my life’s been on this uphill trajectory for so long. And yet, I’m starting to fear a future without a Toffy, a Danny, a Sophia Kim in my immediate life. 

I don’t want them to be absent from my future, but I also can’t let myself be hung up on the past. It pains me to know that the most sustainable relationships are denoted by a willingness to let go and give space with no promise to pick things back up. That promise was guaranteed when they were all a five-minute walk away. But now, the promise becomes muddied by geographic distance, and will be further muddied by time. 

I talk about abstaining from romanticization and the importance of moving on in regard to self-harming relationships, but must I follow the same line of logic for relationships that have done me no dirt? But I guess that’s what relationships are. It’s a very “in the moment” thing — there’s no real guarantee that it’ll continue in the same way forever, and if you’re not ok with it, you at least need to be ready for it. The past teases you, trying to convince you that things were better back then, but just because your past was enjoyable doesn’t mean your present can’t be either. Focus less on creating some impressive yet inauthentic history. Instead, focus on soaking up the present, loving the preamble without expecting anything back, and knowing when to move on from the past (and the ideas or people that define it).