One of those things
It's kinda funny how things change.
When you're hurt by someone, no, when you're hurt by a man, and in spite of the loss and the anger and the frustration, you cling to the tangible reminders of him, any tangible reminders you can find: ticket stub, dried-out flowers, receipts, that last desperate message on your answering machine. It doesn't matter if you're 16 or 33 or if you know that you're behaving irrationally; you cling to these things because you don't know whether to feel hope or bitterness....you don't know what to feel or how to feel, but at least with the tangible thing in your hands you feel something.
Then, maybe a year or so later, you randomly run across one of these reminders. Maybe a photograph or postcard. Maybe an old e-mail or the crinkled scrap of paper that he first gave you his phone number on. And just like that, without even thinking, you hit "delete."
And the thing is gone. And the man is gone.
And you feel nothing.
And that's okay.
When you're hurt by someone, no, when you're hurt by a man, and in spite of the loss and the anger and the frustration, you cling to the tangible reminders of him, any tangible reminders you can find: ticket stub, dried-out flowers, receipts, that last desperate message on your answering machine. It doesn't matter if you're 16 or 33 or if you know that you're behaving irrationally; you cling to these things because you don't know whether to feel hope or bitterness....you don't know what to feel or how to feel, but at least with the tangible thing in your hands you feel something.
Then, maybe a year or so later, you randomly run across one of these reminders. Maybe a photograph or postcard. Maybe an old e-mail or the crinkled scrap of paper that he first gave you his phone number on. And just like that, without even thinking, you hit "delete."
And the thing is gone. And the man is gone.
And you feel nothing.
And that's okay.
posted by TessaJ at 12:34 PM
2 Comments:
Isn't it weird how we imbue inanimate objects with such a high level of emotion/memory, only to one day realise that we've moved on from that?
When I moved out of my apartment 7 momths ago, I came across some stuff which made me think "wow - I kept that? huh." *throw in trash* In a way, its the final catharsis.
I moved a couple of years ago from an old apartment and found a whole (heavy) box of stuff. It was filled with the strangest things, most of it from old boyfriends I hadn't talked to or even thought about for years. It all went straight to the recycling bin/garbage.
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