Confissões

A while ago I was searching for an old letter from the bank, I needed my account number, and I stumbled with a lot of personal letters I have received over the years. My desk has always been a bottomless pit for memories, everything just goes and stays there, and altough I only open my own desk maybe once a month, everytime I do it I get caught by something.

This time, I spent half an hour reading old letters. Letters from old pen pals, from old lovers, even those long birthday cards people wrote, everything just rushed up to my head again. And then it hit me - my first love letter I ever received. I couldn't find it. I don't know what the hell made me so eager to find it, I really really wanted to read that letter again. I wanted to feel what was, back then, some years ago, the happiest day until then.

I don't keep in touch with that girl anymore, and I don't care, but still I desperately wanted to read it again and see if I could relate at all to those feelings I remeber having. But I couldn't find it... if I still had it, it had to be there, and it wasn't. Strangely, that made me awfully sad. I feel like some part of me was lost, and I didn't even remembered this "part" until now.

I don't know what she would think if she read this, maybe she just wouldn't care, but I feel like I owe her the biggest apologie in the world... I would hate for anyone to lose a love letter of mine, people always put so much effort on them, it must be both the happiest and painful pieces of paper to write. And I feel really bad. Not only I want to have someone to exchange letters with again, but every single word of those letters means so little now. Then, it meant the world. Now, just memories. It isn't fair, and that's the fucked up side of being in love.

The very same goes to photographs. Unfortunately, a somewhat recent accident made me lose thousands of old memories I had, and I don't believe I've ever cried so hard about losing something. It's akward. But it certainly hits us right on the spot. I now want to do something about those letters - something at all - but it's just impossible, of course. It just doesn't feel right leaving them there, waiting to be found again, someday.