I can recall how I got some of these scars as if I had lived it. Others were so frequent or crossed over others so they're harder to tell. But the nightmares, the ... memories, they remain. I can't handle fireworks anymore, and storms make me nervous and more than once I've tried to pull a gun on someone. But there are good memories too. Some, at least.
Perhaps we're bound to them. There's more to the world than we can see. I've discovered enough in my journeys to believe that.