Faded Photographs and Silenced Voices

There comes a point for every heartache, every mistake, every fallen romance, when enough time has passed that faces begin to fade from the picture and names from memory.
These faceless figures cease to represent people, and begin to represent only an idea or an ancient era, all but lost to the sands of time. They remain to instruct, no longer to damage.
As a wound closes, but is not yet healed, such are the nameless familiar faces in our dreams. They are the enemies of our heart who are powerless to inflict more harm, but the pain still lingers, the wound still throbs and aches. This pain is a reminder, lest the wound is reopened in some other way. So we favor the injured area, shielding it, but in turn we are also closing it off from the world entirely.
As a scar remains, yet the memory of its origin may not, such are the faceless memories we recall when a song or a smell brings them into our peripheral view. In a moment, your heart remembers a feeling, or a lesson, but not a reason. You only clutch the scar absentmindedly and remember that there was pain, at some time, for some reason, caused by some person.. Only a remnant of a fragment of a memory of a heartache remains. Only a distant reverie. Only a scar.