Well, this week has been a really tough one. I have been thinking a lot about our breakup. I pulled out a folder containing photos, old letters, notes, shopping lists. I kept everything that Bec ever wrote me. Sad I know.
I have a note that she left on my windshield, when she parked behind me at the shops and told me to wait 5 minutes for her.
I saw a photo of us that was taken at a friends birthday party. I have never looked better or happier than when I was there with her in that photo.
I remembered a time that I would come over to her house late at night after I had finished TAFE and see a message spelled out in Scrabble Tiles to come in (We went through a board game phase). I would go inside, and see her curled up under the doona, and hear her breathing, my heart bursting with love for this amazing girl. In the morning, she would bring me peanut butter on toast whilst she was getting ready for school.
It occured to me that I'm 26, and she is 19. It's a big age difference. I am more interested in sitting at home watching Dateline. She is more interested in dancing to the classics at Timewarp (Eeeew!). She is still discovering who she is and having FUN. I know what I want (more or less) and I am probably nearly ready to start getting serious (!). (Read BORING)
I was sitting on the bed crying. I knew it was over, and I was hurting.
"Come on mate, pull yourself together", she nudged playfully trying to lighten the mood. She was going out later.
When I have read these letters and seen these photos, I KNOW that I have been loved. I am SO glad that I got to experience that. I cherish the time that we spent together.
Time changes everything. Things are different now. The time capsule is sealed.
I don't know if it is best to leave it buried for ever, or, to dig it up in a few years and risk destroying everything that is precious inside.