The mind. It plays tricks. It colors the past. Its like having a filter which erases all the mundane and routine things. It remembers and adds more colors, more realizations and interpretations of an incident. Playing a scene from the past in your own movie where you add the things you didn't say, the details you didn't notice have their own trail of meanings and branches of stories, the eye contacts and subtle tacit communications which slipped a moment later but resurface after a long time like a sudden fountain and joy adding more and more shades to the picture.
Human interactions. There's so much more than the words and laughs. You know. I know. That so much is going on that we don't have a grip on it to know it all. When I bring out that moment from the memory bag, there's always more. More than the last time I looked at the frame. And it never stops amusing and overwhelming.
This joy of not being able to hold on to it. Its eternal. This euphoria, this agony, this sting, this cry, this fight, this overabundance of emotions. This keeps me alive.