Past Memories

As I was sorting through my old stuff to create a better organization system, I came across a lot of past memories. I'm not a very sentimental person, so my photos really didn't mean much to me. To tell you the truth, I actually had an epiphany about them. At the time, I thought I was having a blast and I was. Looking at them now, those photos seem so empty, cold, and without purpose. I remember the party, the people, the fun, but there was no emotional attachment and I couldn't remember some peoples' names. I could recall all the parties we've been to and outfits worn, but everything about it was so superficial. I had two boxes, one filled with notecards about anthropology, communication, journalism, and nutrition and another filled with photos. I threw out most of the photos because while some people look at them and reminisce, I felt stupid for not remembering anyone's names. I just don't think I should keep items that take up space I really need for people who I can't even remember. Plus, if I don't bother to look at them, I'm not going to enjoy them. The only photos I kept were of friends from middle school, attractive pictures of me, photos of my boyfriend and I, and a few photo with someone who's no longer my friend. I'm well aware that keeping photos of failed friendships is like poison to my memories, but I'm just not ready to let her go. In spite of what she did, it wasn't long ago that she meant a lot to me. I wanted her to be my maid of honor, and she was like a sister to me. I'm smart enough to cut ties with someone who's willing to sabotage others to get what she wants, uses my friendship as a desperate tool to seduce an unavailable guy, and attempt to cling onto his attention by shit talking about me and even starting to crap with me to give it credibility, but I'm not rational enough to dispose of the photos yet. I'll get there. I'm usually overly logical, so I figure I'm entitled to one emotionally-driven decision.

Hand-written letters, theoretically, for me anyways, are more meaningful. With context and background information, I can resurface past memories and emotions, as though I was transported to my past. I forgot how much of a dynamic and social person I was. I remember the parties and going out, but it becomes a distant memory with details that dull over time. I totally forgot the details about how it made me feel, all the crazy drama that came with it, etc. especially when I looked through the photos only to recall very little. But as I was reading some of my letters, I started to remember. Don't pull a --- Stay good. Be good. Let it --- go. Fuck ---- That was so crazy. No more fires. The Psycho Clique. They don't mean much to others, but it made me realize that it wasn't just partying. It was a part of who I was. I've always been a complicated and dynamic person. My social life didn't mask that. It just appeared differently.

But I also realized something really important. Even the people I'm no longer friends with and the vacuous photos reminded me of how important I was in their lives. I would hear of someone making an elaborate gesture or even little things that were incredible for their friends. While I was happy for the recipient, I did envy them because I never had that...or so I thought. So what if I didn't have a five block long bonfire dedicated exclusively for my "birthday". It was probably word of mouth that brought all of those people together. Hell, that's why I was there. I've never even met the birthday girl. But my friends took time out of their lives to personalize their letters for me. One friend always wrote with two pens outlining each word she wrote down to reflect my duality as she called it. There was another friend who bought pounds of violet colored papers to write just for me because they're my favorite. She said they're beautiful like me but also rough like me. I got a lot of feel better care packages when I was home alone with handmade letters. I feel like I offer good advice, but it often goes ignored. Piles of letters suggest otherwise with simple thank yous. A lot of details, effort, and time was put in for me. Mixed CDs, photos, handmade cards, chocolates, etc. I butt heads with a lot of people because I'm honest. I cut through the bullshit, and it bothers a lot of people. If you ask me what I think about your outfit, and I think it's slutty, I'll tell you, even at the expense of pot calling the kettle black. People can't distinguish the difference between the disgust I have in the outfit vs. the person. Apply that philosophy in other areas, and that's me. I don't want to waste time with people who don't value my sincerity anyways. But because of that I've always believed that people don't care about me the way others do. I'm glad I'm wrong, and I've realized that.

Ultimately I've decided to throw most of the letters out because that's my past. It's important to remember my past so that I can appreciate what I have and how much I've changed, but keeping on to essentially clutter that's taking up space I need isn't going to do me any good. I don't look through my letters often enough to have much value anyways. It's just made me realize how much I've changed, how much everything's changed, and yet so many things remain the same. Friendships I chose to end felt right at the time, but now I know I've made the right decision because years later, they're still such bitches. And to think, they used to be like me, which means I could've turned out like them.