I am a firm believer in the emotional purge. You know, where after you break up/cut off a friend/start a new job, you erase any and all evidence that said boyfriend/friend/position ever existed. Gone are the pictures and the emails save in that special folder (I know I ain’t the only one that has one so stop faking). You
put away throw away all the cards and notes and random whatnot that you collected that reminds you of when you used to be an us. Mostly, it helps me feel better. Cleaning settles my nerves, and plus, I don’t have to happen across anything in the future that will send me right over the edge.
Unless you forget to REALLY clean out your email.
Going through the myriad of folders in my multiple email homes in search of some info that will directly aid Bob and I’s Thanksgiving trip this year, I happen across one folder I forgot to clear.
And there they are. The carcasses of every friendship and relationship that has since festered and died going all the way back to ’03.
And despite my better judgement, I start to read.
And the more I read, the more I want to see.
Insatiable about excavating my emotional ruins, mostly.
And then there it is.
There once was a time I couldn’t imagine my life with too many
people… and now I can’t imagine you not in it.
“You miss me yet?”
“Very good answer.”
“I always miss you when you’re not by my side.”
“I’ve never taken you for granted, or ever wanted
to be without you, I just made a promise…”
I flip through the emails, loading page after page, reminding me how far I’ve come. It doesn’t kill me anymore, not like it once did. My day doesn’t stop, but maybe my smile falters a little, for a moment.
I shake my head at back then, smile a few times, sigh a bit more. My heart doesn’t leap up my throat, but at the same time I feel the coldness settle into my stomach that reminds me that it was all so… wasted.
“Tell me you love me.”
I click the mouse twice for delete all. And sigh one more time.
It doesn’t hurt anymore, but sometimes it still stings.