I've always said if my mom's house were to burn down she would grab the boxes of photos before anything else. She loves photography and lucky for me she's taken millions of pictures through out the years. I do the same, I have boxes of birthday cards, boxes of pictures, and even a box of old letters from people. Everything has a box. I've never been the one to burn old pictures or notes from past boyfriends but today as I looked through my picture box I found one I just didn't like. It's a picture of my ex and I laying down, heads touching. I'm smiling from ear to ear and he has a smirk on his face that leads me to believe that he knew then that we would break up in a matter of months. We've managed to stay friends since our break up six years ago but here lately he is busy and I'm busy and his new girlfriend won't allow us to be friends. Without thinking I took a light to the picture and stood on my porch watching the edges curl. The wind blew out the flame and I lit it up again but it burned too slow. It was taking forever and quite frankly I didn't want to stare at that smirk for any longer. I picked it up and ripped into 2 million little pieces before throwing it into the trash. I'd like to say that it made me feel better but it didn't. It didn't make me feel anything, in fact I was let down that I didn't feel happier or even a little sad. I just felt like I wasted another three minutes of my life on him.
Isn't it funny how somethings go?
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