It wasn’t that I forgot Hanna. But at a certain point the memory of her stopped accompanying me wherever I went. She stayed behind, the way a city stays behind as a train pulls out of the station. It’s there, somewhere behind you, and you could go back and make sure of it. But why should you?
I like this analogy. I love that it can be transferred to different situations, letting go can be such a hard exercise that sometimes one needs a clear example to put it in practice.
