Remember Me Right

Do you know the way people say when they break up that they'll always remember each other? Hellooooo, does consolation get any smaller?

Forgetting someone you've been intimate with is a longshot, isn't it? Then again the definition of "remember" is a bit iffy, anyway.

Like, "I remember on April the 23rd in 2003 we fell asleep in the park and it started to rain", as opposed to "I went out with this guy. His name was Jim".

I guess it probably depends on individual memory. I remember some things to intricate detail, while others I forget altogether.

For example, I can name at least five kids in my class I've never spoken to from the two weeks I spent at West Ryde primary school when I was eleven; yet when Jez tells me that he was at my 13th birthday party in Ashfield I could swear to God that it wasn't true. Then again this is Jez we're talking about. If I may say so, my boy can sometimes be a bit, dare I say it - senile goldfish.

Remembering things is fun. Year 7 was like, 8 years ago and I still remember all the stupid things I did with my best friend. Her name was Vivien and I met her on the bus on the first day of school. She had a crush on a boy called Raymond who she nicknamed "Pip". She made fun of a pastry I was eating that very vaguely resembled a penis. She was the only witness to my fabulous tumble down the lengthiest set of stairs in the school. She loved M2M. She also made fun of my eyebrows, but who hasn't.

Every once in awhile I pry Jez about his ex a little. The two of them dated for 1.5 years (which by the way is technically untrue due to the break-ups inbetween, but whatever) so I asked what they did on their first anniversary. He couldn't remember. I asked when the anniversary date was. He couldn't remember. I hit him on the arm. It didn't jog his memory. Then again he hates the girl so I guess his neurons might not be bothered firing any signals of reminiscence.

I remember my last anniversary date. I wish I didn't, because even now, on the 18th of every month I involuntarily make a mental note. On the other hand, I have absolutely no idea what I did on any of those three anniversaries. Jez is going to twitch, but look, twelve times three is thirty-six. If you were obliged to make the same day of each month special for thirty-six months, you'd remember it too.

Actually, something just occured to me. Jez has been to our apartment in Ashfield - but it wasn't on my birthday! I was so sure that he didn't come (or was invited) to my 13th and I stand by it. I have photos of everyone gathered around my birthday cake and there wasn't a single boy in the room. On top of that it was probably unlikely that we went swimming because my birthday is in cold, cold August.

And ... there was a photo taken of everyone outside the apartment block. Nobody would have been left out. Now this was the very photo that Jez and his little scheming friends published on Fort Conspiracy with unflattering descriptors on each of our heads. In fact, they called me a slut for the entire year.

Anyway, I think Jez and his friends came over on another occasion. I vaguely remember a PS2.