O is for Oblivion. Oblivion is terrifying, and still majestic.
Oblivion is more than forgetting, more than just brushing off a memory. Oblivion it’s the annihilation of reminiscences, the antithetic of recollections.
Oblivion is a two-faced creature, simultaneously relief, and damnation. Relief, when it restores peace among hurting memories, like a fresh hand on a hot forehead.
Damnation, when it is what condemns you to be obliterated from someone’s else memory.
I fell into the oblivion of some people whom I deeply cared about: it was painstaking, it was a fight to remind myself that I still existed outside the memories of those who erased me. It was crawling back to a place of mindfulness where my existence was not defined from the outside. It is a comforting place to be, even though I still find myself wandering outside it too often.
But I never let anyone fall into oblivion for me. Maybe I should have, maybe I should: maybe this is the climax of letting go, the path to ease. Maybe not allowing oblivion to take over the pain is like scratching a crusted wound, to keep it open knowing the scar will be deeper after, but you cannot stop picking it.
So here I am, staring for today’s A to Z challenge into the oblivion, hoping the oblivion will not stare back at me.