Sentimentality is a disease that attacks your brain and tricks you into thinking that tomorrow will be like yesterday. It may also give you explosive diarrhea.
It takes a while before the obvious hits me, so I kind of feel like a huge idiot all of the time. But for years I had kept this cigar box (which was upgraded to a small wooden chest) of old girlfriend memorabilia, usually one thing to represent each girl. They were really just random things like drawings, inside jokes, maybe two pictures. And of course there is Krista’s magnum opus, the compilation of hilarious/disturbing sketches she drew for me throughout the course of a year, put together in a handmade book.
None of these items mean anything. These are memories of girls who have moved on with their lives and sure as hell don’t wax nostalgic about me. Can you imagine someone holding on to a random trinket that I gave them, like is was supposed to symbolize something more? Me neither.
In all honestly I don’t even know why I still hold onto the box. I rarely ever open it. It’s just sitting under my bed collecting dust. In light of that, I’m pretty sure I’m going to throw its contents in a bonfire. There’s no use in holding onto tangible memories when they don’t bring any joy. I guess I’ve realized that it really is the thoughts that count.
Now if you excuse me, I need to prepare the kindling. Roasted marshmallows, anyone?
Actually, I’m going to spare the sketchbook.