Blessed are the forgetful... or not?

"Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders", I love this quote by Friedrich Nietzsche taken from the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

There are days when being just becomes too heavy for me and I wish I can just forget, reset my inner system, this tangled web of nerves, feelings, muscles, memories, neurons, synapses, dreams and blood.

I wish I can feel less and forget more.
I wish it, but I know that inside I don't really want it.

There's a sweet "taste" to all the memories one collects along the journey of Life, and even though at times they hurt, they are an essence in shaping who we become day after the other, while the ability to balance between memory and reality is what defines one's present.

That look that said everything.
That word you wish you never said.
The sweet embrace.
The thing you wish you did.
The magic.
That awkward moment when nothing made sense and time stopped.
The failure and how you faced it.
The lost time over an illusive love.
The slap on the face.
The people you will never meet again.
That smell filled with wonders a long way from home.
The One, or not.
The last time you were genuinely happy and didn't have a clue about it.
The wonders of youth.
The daydream that will never happen.
The madness.
The things/people you took for granted.
That friend you lost and will never see again.
All the "what if's", "could be's" and "why not's".

It hurt but then she came along, I thought the pain was starting to go away, then I realised it was just the start of another memory that will eventually make me wish I was a Forgetful... or not?