The Sweetness Of Forgetting Book Novels & Stories

"It's okay if you don't remember. I'll help you make new memories." I gave a small smile. "Maybe forgetting isn't so bad. If I could erase the last ten years... maybe I'd finally know peace. Something besides pain." He paused, thinking. Then his eyes lit with something fierce. "There's a way. If you really want to forget—I can help. Are you sure?" I stared at him, heart pounding. Then nodded without a second thought. Forgetting would finally mean freedom. A month later, Wolvent and I held our mating ceremony.

The cover is worn, soft under my fingers, like someone's held this book a lot and loved it. I open it carefully, turning the pages one by on, and then it happens again. A voice. My voice. Soft and sad and so familiar it makes my chest ache. "Love is so short, forgetting is so long." I hear myself saying those words. I don't know when. I don't know where. But I said them. I meant them. I close the book hard. My knees buckle. I slide down the shelf until I am sitting on the floor, my back pressed against the stacks, the book still clutched in my hands.

There was no blood, no sweat, just the man she had been longing for. She held that illusion tightly, tears slipping from the corner of her eyes. When she forced her eyes open, struggling through the haze, she found that the person sitting by the bed, holding her hand, was Jasper. Time became a blur. After finishing the last month of the so-called special medication, Giselle changed. Her memory grew increasingly disordered. Her reflexes slowed, like a puppet with its soul ripped out. Even her most trusted pride, her sense of smell as a perfumer, began to fade.

" What happened tomorrow, no one could know. Maybe I would wake up and forget all about it. I may forget that the love of my life cheated on me, forget that he took his mistress for a maternity checkup. I may forget their intimacy, forget that same bracelet Abril and I had. I may forget the pain of losing my babies, forget about... I may forget about my parents, forget about Vivian. I may even become so mad that I didn't realize I forgot about it. About what happened tomorrow, who knew?

he speaks when he realizes that I won’t be saying anything. “You think I can?” I ask and he nods, but I don’t believe this, I don’t believe that I can easily forget about her when everything seems fuzzy in my head except for her image. I can’t seem to forget her laugh and how she throws her head when she really laughs from her heart. I can’t get out of my head how she used to hold onto me whenever we hugged. I can’t seem to erase from my mind her beautiful features and how her eyes have me captivated. This hazel-eyed brunette has complete and utter control over my heart and every thought in my head, yet I’m told that I must forget her.

I welcomed the warmth crawling through me, the dulling at the edges of my thoughts, the way everything started to feel slower, quieter and safer. I looked down at the bottle in my hands, the amber catching the light, and wondered how many sips it would take before I couldn’t remember her name. Maybe that was the point. Maybe forgetting was the only mercy I had left.

"You forgot my face. You forgot my name. You forgot that night. You forgot everything that happened, everything we were, everything we could have been. You forgot. You chose to forget. Because it was easier. Because it was safer. Because it was all you knew how to do. Forget. Run. Start over somewhere else. Start over with nothing. Start over with no one. Start over as if nothing had ever existed, as if no one had ever existed, as if I had never existed." I want to tell him he's wrong. I want to tell him I didn't forget. That I never forgot. That I thought of him every day, every night, every time I looked at my children, every time I saw their blond hair, their light eyes, the way they laug

I kept reading. “Those who open the chest without being entrusted to it invite ruin upon their own minds. The punishment is not immediate death, but something far crueler. The unchosen begin to lose their grip on memory. Thoughts slip away moments after forming. Recognition becomes familiarity without context. Knowledge surfaces—then vanishes—again and again.” My breath caught painfully in my chest. They remember… and forget. See… and forget. Know… and forget. The room felt suddenly too small. Lydia’s face flashed through my mind.

Trevor doesn’t believe in such fairytales, I think, as the bitter taste of bile rises deep in my throat and makes me shake my head. “We want different things,” I say to my best friend. “There’s no use wanting someone who won’t let himself feel the same way.” The solemn echo of my words settles deep inside my heart. All I had to do was forget about Trevor now and hope it’ll get easier to forget the memories we shared as the days rolled by. *** Forgetting is harder than I anticipated it to be. I tossed around on my bed that evening after closing Espresso Books for the day and found myself itching with the urge to call him and listen to the velvety smooth timbre of his voice.

Hello my goodreaders wherever you are, sorry for not uploading for a few days and just uploading today with some chapters that I hope will fill your new year's eve later, I just hope you can enjoy your special day with your precious people and my stories as hope you are healthy always. So Enjoy my story and thank you always for continuing to follow my story, warm hug from me to you guys 🌹🖤 -The stronger you try to forget, the stronger you will remember it in memory. Because forgetting is not as easy as knowing... so stay in here-