I always was a hoarder. I would keep everything, afraid to throw it out in case I forgot. Every possession I treasured, I treasured.
It was all there. Ticket stubs from first and last dates, flyers from clubs, love notes, letters unsent… I kept a keep sake from every moment that had made me smile. Items that held nothing but happy memories. And hope.
As I grew older and the memories moved further and further from my mind I still clung to these mementoes. It was as if just by having them I held the bricks, the keys, for happiness.
But I didn’t. And often, in retrospect, these treasured reminders simply made me sad. Made me long for a life that was no longer mine.
Piece by piece, and then in piles, my treasures became just trash. No longer items of importance because my identity had shifted. I was no longer to let things hold me back…