Desire for a Spotless Mind

I wish that memory erasers really existed sometimes. I've begun to start a whole new life, yet the memory attached to a face still stings just as bad as it did before. Not just ex-boyfriends but ex-friends, ex-companions. Like everything just doesn't mean jack shit. Ideas and questions continue to pop up in my mind. Why, what? huh? what the fuck? fuck you. I just feel like everything is very surreal. A fog. On the other hand, of course, negative experiences have made me who I am just as much as the positive ones. I'll always cherish the good times and hate that bad ones were had, but shit, when is it time for me to be really happy? Is true happiness an illusion? Are people who think they're truly happy just trapped in a subconscious hallucination based on ignorance?