The Cutting Room Floor

At the end of the year, what do you do with moments you used to want to remember, but now you don’t?

Every year, at the end of December, I open this little app called 1 Second Everyday, and I add just that — a 1 second video from as many days as I remembered to record them. The app shows a calendar grid just waiting to be filled with pleasant memories. Every year, I look forward to this video so much. I don't like to compile it too early in the year, because I love the surprise it brings at the end. So many clips I had captured just for this exact video, then promptly forgotten about.

But this year was different. I was equally excited to put this year's video together and dreading it completely.

Because what do you do with moments you used to want to remember, but now you don’t? Do you leave them in? What about the ones with faces that now make you wince? What about the ones where you know someone is just out of frame? What about the ones with the familiar voices in the background? What about the ones in the places you're trying to forget? What about the memories that don't feel like yours anymore?

But you did live them. You sat across from that person, you pulled out your phone, and you recorded that dumb inside joke about the museum.

So my question became this: if you carefully curate each of those one seconds and cut around the parts that sting — is the record of your year really accurate? If you edit them out — is it still true? If the record of your year looks a little like Swiss cheese, can you still say that’s how it really happened?

Which led me to: who am I documenting all this for? Do I make the video for myself or for a handful of likes from the brave few who committed an internet rarity — watching an entire 5 minute video? Of course it's ultimately for my own indulgence. I love rewatching past years'. But even last years' — the one that included a fall and winter that now feels painful and chaotic — is hard for me to rewatch. It stings when I watch it.

It's funny to look back at old photos of bad haircuts and ridiculous fashion choices, but what about photos of someone who hurt you deeply? Will those ever be funny? Come next December, will I have to cut out videos I'm taking now? Or will I want to remember every detail?

I don't know the right answer, but I decided to leave quite a bit on the cutting room floor. I carefully curated and cleverly cropped my way through January, February, and March. Yes there are gaps in the dates. Stretches of days where the only videos I took are ones I'd rather not remember, and so I just left them blank. Maybe there's enough truth in the blank space to fill the void anyway.

But I also left easter eggs. Just for myself. Specific clips that mean something only to me. Benchmarks in a literal timeline of my year. That beach ball. That sunset. That drive home. Maybe those will be enough to prove my year was true. Maybe I'll rewatch this year's video and remember what they each meant and how much I changed between January and December. Or maybe enough time will have passed and I'll have no idea why I chose that one day to show a deflated beach ball labeled "sun".

A small existential crisis later, and the video is done. It feels both accurate and inaccurate. Maybe I erased history, or maybe some moments are just meant to be forgotten in order for you to move on.

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