You never forget the shock of foil on a filling. The thrill of gazing into the lights, knowing that thousands are looking back, never dims. The helpless elation that buckles your knees as you fall in love, in my experience, trumps all other memories.
Is there anyone out there who doesn't crumble when that song plays in the background in the grocery store?
Oh, I know perfectly well that it's just biology. It was a central part of the design so that life would perpetuate. Something that would make sex more desirable than goofy golf. Napping. Television.
If falling in love is the pinnacle of life then I suppose that the end of love must be the nadir.
Those memories? More precious than rare jewels or more useless than tits on a bull?
Who knows? Who cares?