pictures of you...
I was remarking to Megan that I wished that I hadn't accumulated so many memories that included people who are no longer part of my life anymore. For a while I wished that I could just go somewhere and have those memories erased (a la Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind).
I happened to catch a documentary on American Masters tonight on Annie Leibovitz. The amazing photographer that captured tons of personal moments in Rolling Stone and Vanity Fair. The way she photographs people made me think (I could go on and on about her style but I will get back to my point).
Erasing everything is pretty harsh. Because there is some good even in the bad moments. You just have to look deeper (this is beginning to sound a little too Pollyanna, forgive me). Everything has a purpose. Erasing everything means that nothing happened. I made no progress at all. Sure remembering some things may hurt, but that is what makes us human.
So even though I have deleted all the emails and destroyed a few items, I still have me, my memories (or how I chose to remember how everything was). I know what was good, what was bad, and what I hope to not do over. I know how they made me feel. I knew that I didn't have to live behind that wall of ice. I remember what it's like to trust someone.
Part of me wants to write them all thank you notes in my personal journal (not everything goes on the internet). Maybe I will just make a collage.
I happened to catch a documentary on American Masters tonight on Annie Leibovitz. The amazing photographer that captured tons of personal moments in Rolling Stone and Vanity Fair. The way she photographs people made me think (I could go on and on about her style but I will get back to my point).
Erasing everything is pretty harsh. Because there is some good even in the bad moments. You just have to look deeper (this is beginning to sound a little too Pollyanna, forgive me). Everything has a purpose. Erasing everything means that nothing happened. I made no progress at all. Sure remembering some things may hurt, but that is what makes us human.
So even though I have deleted all the emails and destroyed a few items, I still have me, my memories (or how I chose to remember how everything was). I know what was good, what was bad, and what I hope to not do over. I know how they made me feel. I knew that I didn't have to live behind that wall of ice. I remember what it's like to trust someone.
Part of me wants to write them all thank you notes in my personal journal (not everything goes on the internet). Maybe I will just make a collage.


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