the motivation to move on

If I try to look back at my past relationships and flings like the big events that they were and bring them to the now, they are blurry. They are globs of wet paint poured out on to a canvas, mixed and muddled. There is no timeline, no beginning and end. The brights stand out as much as the darks. There is the color obsession mixed in with the color love. The color agony mixed in with the color laughter. Shame and purity. Some minuscule colors escape to their own private corners of the canvas and are very clear and vivid and I remember them well. But I cherish the whole painting because I can call it my own.