Hi Luke
When you look at it now, can you see that it's just a story?
I can with some events, but not for others. It seems that if something is particularly emotive, I see it as 'me'. For example I remember the last, painful conversation we had before we broke up, and I can't see a story there, I see a solid me. But when I read some diary entries about other stuff, or even re-reading poems I wrote years ago, they all feel like they happened to someone else. Some other person wrote them.
Is the other person here right now? Does she really "exist"?
Why "exist"? I am assuming you are pointing to the fact that there's no real "she" in as much as there's no real "me". But even though, "she" is the label applied to this being, made of thoughts and senses and there's enough of "she" in her today to remember the "she" of when we were together.
Anyway, does anything that is not here in direct experience, "exist"?
What I see, smell, touch, tastes exists. What I think doesn't. So she exists as a human being even though she's not in front of me right now. At the same time the "she" is not a "she" like the "me" is not a "me" - permanent, self.
Is there an 'I' that had been hurt? Just now?
No, there are painful thoughts! When I turn towards the question, all that happens is like thoughts on a screen, bizarre! There's identification and with that the "I" that is hurt emerges!
The "I" that is hurt also emerges if the thoughts are about memories of the past, it's almost like a film starts playing and rather than the spectator, I find myself in it as an actor.
Is this feeling of resentment (assumed that it is there right now) felt by a someone?
No! That feels strangely clear, and there's joy with it!
Is there an 'I' that owns the memories?
This one instead feels like, yes, there's an "I". It feels like an umbilical cord that connects the memories together. So I know the answer should be no, but it doesn't feel like it. I get straight into identification. One memory plays in my head and the memory is a thought, I know, but it is also something that really happened. And feels like it happened to "me" that now remembers. I think this is the crucible for me, memories seems intrinsically linked to "I".