june 19th, 2009.

maybe it's silly but after all this time, i've kept that one little box.

after we went our separate ways, i got rid of most everything. i tore up pictures, i shredded your sweatshirt, i wanted to erase every little moment in the grand space of time that we shared. but that quaint little shoebox, filled with love notes you'd written me and stories i'd written about us, for some reason - i just could bring myself to get rid of that box. i wouldn't allow myself to completely erase the story of you and me.

and maybe it's silly, but from time to time - i thumb through that box.

i don't know why i keep going back to it. it's rather ridiculous actually. after all the hurtful words, after the backstabbing, after the "fuck you's" and the "i never want to see you again's" - after all the space and the distance.. i still hang onto little pieces of you and me. i guess maybe there's a part of me that, dare i say it, wants to believe that at one time, i was inexplicably, extremely and inconveniently happy, in love.

it's silly. but i wonder, if maybe, i lost a part of myself when i tried to get rid of you.

i've changed so much since then. you'd barely even recognize me. i'm not as carefree, i'm more quiet, reserved. i rarely make rash decisions and i'm extremely cautious, especially when it comes to my heart. i don't know. maybe it was the heartbreak. maybe it was the act of growing up. or maybe i just lost my childhood optimism. but somewhere along the way, i stopped believing that love conquers all.