(no subject)

[assassinaaron]

I think I know how my dad felt when he burned those old pictures. Except burning those letters was a little different for me. It wasn't a long forgotten history, more of a fairly recent one. But the relativity of time shouldn't barricade all meaning. The smell was strange, almost like it reminded me that she sprayed that perfume on it. Good thing it's gone. Reading those again was cool insight for me, but it started teetering on a fence I wasn't comfortable with. There are explanations as to why people do things, but the feeling I got out of it was bitter. Was there satisfaction out of burning those? Or a bad trip down memory lane?

I'm anxious to read this one again in the future.

Actually, you know what this makes me feel? More appreciation for what I have <3