Sometimes, I think of you, and I

squeeze my eyes shut—as though somehow,

eyelids can be barriers to

the memories that perpetu-

ally rush back to my mind as

violent waves. Very often,

these recollections of the past

come at first as agitated

ripples before transforming in-

to larger, more destructive un-

dulations. But memories can-

not be ceased by the eyes, for they

are seen with the mind alone. Stop-

ping memories is just about

as effortless as stopping a

tsunami.