OUCH! Damn papercut. What a disaster. All of it. I have to say, the one thing I despise about packing is the reminiscing of the past. I'm eyeball deep in doggy bag scraps of memories. (pictures, journals, birthday cards, love notes, oh, theres his old sweater) I don't like it. Not one bit. I'm kicking and screaming moving into this new place. It's small and no where near as gorgeous as the place we're in now. However, I'm excited to have 3 of us in there. I think maybe I'll be able to sing around the house with someone. As I pack I have little epiphanies of what my new home is going to be like. S.O.B. Theres a sport season every month of the year and what do you know.... we all seem to have our favorite teams lined up. I think I'll conform just to avoid a minor earthquake in apt. 208.
I decided to start one of these since I'm always on here and well... thats where my best thoughts start. My motivation for todays post..... my cardboard paper cut thats reached my soul. I stumbled across a couple of pictures and even a letter from Tyler. (For those that don't know, Tyler was killed in an airplane accident 2 years ago in NY along side of Cory Lydel, the NY Yankee pitcher). Tyler and I went way back to middle school. While we were friends then, H.S. was the firm handshake to our relationship. We loved eachother like best friends do. I flipped over his picture in which he wanted to make sure I had so bad that I seemingly have 2 copies, only to find the words, "I love you. I'm always here". Those are tough words to read when you know the next time you see them, you've reached the end. I'm hurt. I'm numb. I'm uncomfortable. The last time we talked, it wasn't us. It was 2 strangers trying to think of excuses as to why we were totally oblivious to time. I feel as though he took the stairs and I stayed on the escalator. How dare I find these notes now. Knowing how stripped my emotions are right now. I miss him. I was foolish to think that I still had tomorrow.
Anyway. These boxes are not going to pack themselves.