November Second Plus Eight
In truth, for the first time, I forgot about it until this evening, a mere 8 days late. I heard a friend discussing some dates and when she named November 2, it clicked. I couldn't show the realization on my face because then I'd have to explain what I just realized. I usually avoid those situations. The sudden awareness strangely hurt and containing it was an exercise in control --especially when all you want from the person next to you is to listen while you plead your case, then reassurance that you're not a bad person.
Most of me feels guilty for forgetting that particular day. A teeny part of me is treating the omission as a sign of some kind of growth, even if that slant is a way of alleviating the guilt. There are more days I live a memory than those days that I forget.
I can rationalize that simply because I remember, it won't change anything.
Forgetting changes something.