Everything I own is now packed away into boxes: hundreds of books with delicate notes in the margins, old journals and letters and cards and scraps of paper covered in words about love, my childhood toys, the clothes I have walked in and danced in and been hugged in, gifts I have been given, objects with years of memories attached to them. It is a strange experience to pack up a life. But there is something really wonderful about placing that final piece into the final box, and realizing that all of your life you have been a collector of love. So many adventures. So many friendships. So many reasons to be happy and grateful. Boxes and boxes full.
Posted on: Thu, 29 Aug 2013 23:31:31 +0000