BadBeams3,
Good post! Indeed. About the memory thing and forgetting, it makes me think of Nietzche, who maintains that FORGETTING is an active power of the mind and spirit, something necessary and essential to a vital life. It isn't just the failure of remembering, but an intentional house-cleaning, if you will.
And I think there's something to that, to say the least. Also, his whole "The Use and Disadvantage of History for life" essay in Untimely Meditations is rather a pro pos here, I think. In simple outline, he finds it strange that "culture" has come to mean "museum culture": being educated--cultured--came to mean (in his day at least) being really knowledgeable about Greek culture and Roman culture and Shakespeare and Newton and so on and on. This intense self-consciousness he contrasts with the Greek culture itself--the true Greek culture before Socrates and Eurypides ruined it! LOL!
Anyway, I digress. A lot.
My point is that I have come to believe that there is a great deal of wisdom in folly, to put it paradoxically. I feel that if you are unable to forgive yourself, forget, forgive, and move on, you are probably lacking in wisdom! Wisdom is knowing that you are only human, nothing special, not infallible. And if you know that, really know it deep down, you are very unusual(!)
As for the girlfriend who has told multiple boyfriends they were special, all of them, I do not see a problem with that at all. Love and logic do not totally overlap! A parent can love all of his or her children, knowing that each one is indeed special, unique, a one time miracle, never to happen again, precious beyond measure. Everyone is special, unique, a miracle, just in being nothing special, ordinary.
I think that those people who become cynical and jaded from repetition have confused art and life. In art, once something has been fully explored, by its highest exponents, then there is not only no need for more, but a reaction against more, and a move towards something unique. But in life, how could you get enough pleasure (over due time, of course)? How could you grow tired of orange juice or pizza or making love?
By depression, I guess, which is a failure of vitality, or maybe a confusing of art and life.
OK. I'm rambling and tired and have decided to cut myself off. Hope some of it was worth reading!