I keep everything anyone has ever written, anything in which someone has taken the time to put their sentiments down on paper, on parchment, on a card, or on a napkin... It's my keepsake box. There are some photos in there, and they all carry a memory I hold close to my heart.
This is the one box I'd go back into the fire for. Hell, I'd go into the lion's den for. No fuck that, I'd go into Hell and kick the Devil's ass just to retrieve this one box. Why?...
There was this picture.
I took it a long time ago in middle school. It was way back, and I must've been eleven or twelve. I remember this picture and that time vividly. It was after school, and it was all ending soon... I knew I had to take this picture... I remember thinking... "I will never forget you. I never want to forget this moment." The light was just right. For some reason when the photograph came out, it failed in comparison to that memory. It was after all a point and click camera. Still, I cherished the photo because it was real and not just a memory.
That's why I'm so angry and upset with myself this entire Saturday and maybe for life... because somewhere, someplace, sometime ago the picture was misplaced. Why would I move it? Where would I move it to? Why can't I remember where it is? Why can't I find it?
I was running around crazy most of the morning. It's the next morning, and I'm still pretty upset and pissed... and being passive aggressive, of course, I'm internalizing it. Now it hurts... I'm really angry, upset, sad, pissed, but mostly sad. I'd give anything for that picture back...
It was my memory of her.
It was how I saw her than, how I will always see her. That was who she will always be to me. That was the photo that I was going to show her again... one day... someday.... Now I can't.
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