I used to have this "scorched earth" policy with regards to failed relationships.
A relationship ended and out went everything; photos, letters, gifts, the whole lot. My reasoning being that I didn't want to have physical reminders of those happy times that were now tainted with heartbreak. And, I didn't want to heft them around everywhere I went. I didn't want that albatross. I could keep the good times safe in my heart and mind. That would be enough.
A select few pictures have survived and maybe a letter or two, but the rest? Gone, turned to ashes, and discarded. That was all well and good then, but now?
I'm getting a little older and the memories are getting foggy.
Being a serial monogamist throughout my adult life, I've tossed a large amount of my life out through the years. There was that four year gap somewhere in my late 20's, early 30's but other than that, I was a part of a "we" and not just a "me". I've now realized that by getting rid of those reminders, I wasn't just getting rid of "him", I was also erasing me.
I don't want to skip down memory lane and reminisce about loves lost, but it would be nice to have a piece of my youth frozen in time to look back on.
At this point in my life, I should have albums and boxes of reminders of a life lived. Instead, I possess a collection that would fill a shoe box and not much larger.
Here's hoping the mind hangs on longer to these memories and I might have a chance to write them down. I won't be able to see the smiles as they were, but I might be able to write about them.