Some Things Are Best Left Forgotten Novels & Stories

Broken. Some truths are better left hidden. Some truths destroy you the moment they surface. And this truth? I didn’t think I would ever recover.

“I don’t feel strong, but I love him with all my heart. I might not be able to forget completely, but I have forgiven him.” “You shouldn’t forget,” He tells me softly. “Neither of you should forget. Forgetting one’s mistakes is the easiest way to repeat them. Accept them, come to terms with them, and rise above them… but never forget.” I can’t help but smile. “Maybe you should change your job, Lucas, and become a therapist instead. The therapist says exactly the same.” We have had a therapist come to make house calls a couple of times, one with no connection to the Institute.

“Stop trying to make me forget.” His words landed slow and heavy. I had a strange, dislocated moment where I considered how to answer. There are things you can explain and correct; there are things that are not argument at all— things that are belief, grief, something that can’t be fixed with facts. “You don’t need to forget,” I said carefully. “You can remember and still be here. You can—” “Don’t,” he snapped. The smallness of the room made the sound feel enormous. He pushed himself up in one violent movement and I had to put my hands out to catch the plate I’d set down. Rice scattered across the desk.

The place was so silent that her footsteps could be heard. Sad memories of how she, Mama Samantha, and Gio used to go to church every Sunday flood back. The happiness, the joy of having a family, the peace of being extremely poor but happy was all she remembered. Warm tears flowed down her left eye to the corner of her lips. "Nothing lasts forever" She remembered Mama Samantha's last words. Truly nothing lasts forever on this earth, but even pain. Weeks ago, Alita was at the edge of breaking and begging her late parents and Mama Samantha to guard her soul to an eternal end. The kind of end where she would feel no more pains, the kind of end she would 'Remember to forget' what pain feels like

No matter how people forget things, there are still thing greater than any sickness a mortal can get. That is love Love that keeps on reminding us about the things that we truly hold dear. Love that can’t be erased no matter what makes us forget it. it will remain. And it will always be. For the print it left behind can never be removed. Not by age, not by time, not by any medicine Aiden POV

Suddenly, I was caught between the past and the present, two worlds colliding in a way I hadn’t anticipated. “Certain things should be retained in the memory," Evelyn said, her eyes less strained, with something nostalgic in herself. “Some things are worth holding onto.” I looked into her eyes, the burden of what she was reopening. Memories of what we had once shared, the moments that had meant everything at the time. But those memories felt almost surreal now, like a faded dream. “Perhaps," I replied, my voice soft, "but there are some things that are better off unfollowed. Individuals have grown, and in some instances, walking away is the right thing to do to honor the past.”

Because sometimes, the things you hate most are the ones you can’t forget. And I wasn’t ready to see what that “something else” would do to me.

"You have no idea. I left my husband. I’m just... so tired of everything." Omari’s eyes softened. "I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?" Emily shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. "Talking doesn’t change anything. I just want to forget." Omari nodded, his gaze intense but understanding. "Sometimes forgetting is the best medicine."

"This tree doesn't grow new branches every day. It strengthens the ones it has. It sends roots deeper. We've been growing too wide, too fast, and our roots have become shallow." Understanding dawned in Elara's eyes. "The library... we were trying to save every memory. But some memories need to be let go. They need to make room for new ones. That's how living things work." "Exactly," Kaelen said. "The Forgetting isn't the enemy—it's a symptom. The enemy is our fear of forgetting. Our desperate attempt to hold onto everything. In trying to save all memories, we're losing the ones that matter." The truth of it settled over them. They had been fighting the wrong battle.