"You forget all of it anyway. First, you forget everything you learned-the dates of the Hay-Herran Treaty and Pythagorean Theorem. You especially forget everything you didn’t really learn, but just memorized the night before. You forget the names of all but one or two of your teachers, and eventually you’ll forget those, too. You forget your junior class schedule and where you used to sit and your best friend’s home phone number and the lyrics to that song you must have played a million times. For me, it was something by Simon & Garfunkel. Who knows what it will be for you? And eventually, but slowly, oh so slowly, you forget your humiliations—even the ones that seemed indelible just fade away. You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. Who went to a good college. Who threw the best parties. Who could get you pot. You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They’re the last to go. And then once you’ve forgotten enough, you love someone else."
Gabrielle Zevin, Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac (via nikirig)
Note: I read this book in one sitting on the plane to Paris last year. My boyfriend of only a year had broken up with me just before my high school graduation. I was so devastated; I didn’t sleep that night. I was up until two in the morning listening to “Let it Be.” I thought it was the worst thing that could happen to a girl like me, and it is one of the worst. I thought I’d never meet anyone else like that boy, that he was the only one. But I got better, and reading this book, listening to Coldplay’s “Paradise,” and touring through Paris made for a great recovery recipe. My point is that, as I sat on the plane reading this book, this quote was the most comforting thing anyone could say to me. And it didn’t even come from someone’s mouth; it came from off a page.