Sometimes there are these memories, tiny in duration, but colossal in effect, that come into one’s mind. They are unbidden, and often unwelcome, but suddenly they’re there, and all you can do is just deal with them.

Maybe it’s something as simple as the way the wind feels on your skin, or the way the light hits the steering wheel of your car as the sun sets and you’re driving home. Maybe it’s the sound of a notification on someone else’s phone, that reminds you of a time when you used that same tone, a long time ago.

Isn’t it weird, though? How our brain tends to associate these seemingly very simple things with people and events? And what’s more frustrating is the fact that, no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be able to share that feeling with someone else. After all, the Pensieve only exists in Harry Potter books. So for others, these memories are just related through words and images, but they’re never the same thing. How can you relate a memory of warmth to someone who’s never experienced it the same way? Or the feeling of someone’s skin against your fingertips? It’s never exact, only relayed via a noisy medium, with losses along the way. The most unfortunate game of telephone there is.

And even if you could, how would you ever tell them how it feels to remember those things? Would you tell them that they rend your heart asunder? That they make you sigh so heatedly, you’d think that the flames in your chest are still there — even when you know that all that’s left are embers and ashes?

You can’t, but you’ll keep trying.

Because the memory is worth it.