Remembering Everything About My World And When You Came

This evening I opened a medium-sized box (an Avon shipping box, to be precise) that I keep in a corner of my room. It's nestled next to my bookcase and under a basket that holds my shoes (one of the few out-of-the-way spots in a tiny bedroom).

The contents of this box represent four years of my life. All the contents are attached to a particular individual. Almost exactly a year ago I collected various items littered around my room, filled the box, placed the lid on top, shed a few tears on my best friend's shoulder, and then moved on with my life.

Well, at the time I told myself I moved on. I think I've opened that box once since I filled it, and I remember having many regrets the last time I looked at the contents and all they represented. For an unknown reason tonight I opened the box and took out every last item inside. I read every letter, looked at every picture, held every stuffed animal, and smelled every t-shirt (they only smelled like cardboard box, for the record. :-p).

Yes, I have moved on. But it took me a year to do so. I'm not pining, and I no longer regret. I truly and completely treasure that time in my life. I was surprised at some of the written words I found to warm my heart and snapshots that made me smile. I was grateful for all that was learned and shared during those four years. When I was done, I carefully packed the box again and placed the lid on top.

How does one move one? I pondered this as I sat next to the closed box; wanting to truly grasp what I had found and felt. Accept. Cry. Talk. Pray. Laugh. Dance. Listen. Sleep. Think. Write. In some manner and for whatever length of time you need, engage in all those things. And one day, you will find they no longer have a hold on you and you no longer want to hold onto them. You will simply find meaning in what is past and will keep living.

I'm not very wise in love or life. But in this instance, I know I have something worth remembering and sharing.