Thursday, March 29, 2012

Photographs and memories

Photographs and memories
Christmas cards you sent me
All that I have are these
to remember you..

Summer skies and lullabies
Nights we couldn't say goodbye
And of all the things that we knew
Not a dream survived

Photographs and memories
All the love you gave to me
Somehow it just can't be true
That's all I have left of you..

I used to have my own little treasure box, where I would safe keep my memories of former boyfriends. It came with a lock and a tiny key. It held all of my movie theatre tickets (not that I had that many), a plastic ring (given to me by a very shy young man in France at the age of 13), a cigarette butt (gosh, you all know how I hate cigarettes but I treasured that butt for the lips that had touched it), love letters, a candy wrapper, a pants knot that came off while making out, ..

Over the years, more memories found their final destination in my little treasure box. Pictures were added, love letters got torn and taped back together, an engagement ring got polished before I trusted it to sit by my other memories.

We lived together and had a passionate but at the same time very disturbing relationship. You were so jealous, lacked so much confidence. One day, you found my little treasure box under our bed. You frantically searched the apartment for the key, that you couldn't find, since it was sitting on my key chain I had in my purse. It didn't keep you from forcing the lock and scattering the contents of the box out on the bed. You went through all of my personal memories, my own private belongings. It broke my heart when I came home and found pictures to be torn in two, separating male and female on the portrait. You threw out what was of no meaning to you, but very dear to me. Memories that could never be replaced. I cried silent tears. You took away part of my past and you couldn't comprehend the importance of your deeds. You had no idea the handkerchief in my box was yours. Whenever you weren't around, I would hold it in my hands at night in bed to be closer to you. The handkerchief got burned in your rage.

The actual objects may no longer be available, but the memories will never fade. Because that's what memories do.. They stay with you for the rest of your life. But I wish I could have my treasure box back and go through all those little items, for I assume I must have forgotten some after all..

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