Do you ever wonder about that place-where-forgotten-memories-go? I imagine it to be like an old age home where the elderly sit around the dining table - complaining about children who never visit. Elated when we revisit them after years of neglect, only to have their hearts broken again as we, unable to resist the seductive pull of a future full of uncertain possibility, leave for a place far, far away.
Sometimes they run the risk of being abandoned entirely. When that happens, we put them on the-list-of-endangered-memories, like the name of the girl in this picture (the first love of my naive teenage) - a memory that has been granted protected status for the sole reason that it has been forgotten several times.