I picked up some old boxes from my mom’s house the other day. My life from childhood until 18 is in those boxes.
It’s so hard to express how full of feeling these boxes make me. The emotions tied to each piece of paper are intense.
I remember the nights of staying up late, promising forever friendship and sharing secrets.
…the giggling and laughing until my stomach hurt and I couldn’t breath.
…my best friend running up and in breathless excitement telling me she was moving to Florida.
…how I felt like someone hit me in the stomach with a 2×4 at that moment.
…crying and missing her.
…meaning to write back.
I never really did.
I lost that friend because I never made time to stay in touch.
I remember never feeling quite right in any clothes.
….getting a compliment.
…instantly feeling beautiful right afterward.
…going on “diets”
…eating nothing but junk food.
…learning what it meant to feel sexy.
I remember the brief looks and almost innocent touches.
…the whispers and not so subtle giggles and glances.
…notes written between friends.
…acting way too interested.
…playing hard to get.
…falling in love.
…falling out of love.
I remember feeling sad and alone and angry at the world. I remember feeling like every little thing was the end of the world. It was all that was. I now realize how little and unimportant those things were.
I also remember thinking I’d get to things that weren’t very important. I now realize how infinitely important those things were. I wonder how different my life would be if I wouldn’t have neglected the people who were truly important to me.
I wonder if I’ve learned that lesson yet.
It’s amazing what looking through old letters, cards, pictures and home videos can bring into your mind. So many emotions, packed tightly away where I didn’t have to think or deal with them. I’m slowly pulling them back out and examining them. If I can finally learn the lessons I should have learned before I packed them away, maybe in 20 years my new set of boxes will bring more positive feelings than negative ones.