I think I’m ready now, box up my memories. Print them out and stack them up. Tie a ribbon on them, let them go.
It’s been far too long of clinging. Haven’t been allowing myself to live this life in the moment. I’ve said it like many before me, it’s only human to look back, and it is. I’m not trying to stop being human, but I think I may be ready to stop staring that way. I’ve got to let it go. I can’t keep reading it all back, running it all back. It corrupts the present. I can’t see what really going on through all shadows cast by yesterday. I’d like to say I could forget, but what’s the point of lessons learned if you forget them? I’d like to say that I’ll start fresh, but starting over is what I’ve done too many times. It’s a pruning process from now on. Cut away disease. Let go of what has died. Keep the vibrant, keep only what remains alive.
But how to sort it when I’m constantly looking backwards, looking at the dead? I can’t. So, tomorrow I will find them, stack them, box them up. I won’t read or write another word. I don’t need them to remember. And looking back is failure now. Tie them with a bow; sign, seal, deliver. Let it go.