A Box of Old Memories
Just got an email saying that the credit card I used to purchase my paid account years ago has expired. I had forgotten about it, and the automatic payment taken out every March was a blip that was easy enough to ignore. Now I cannot just ignore it; I'm not here like I used to be. That chapter of my life...well, it's over. I know all I will be losing are a bunch of my icons, and maybe some posting options that I never used anyway.
Each of those icons means something, though. They are memories captured in tiny pictures, in many cases more meaningful than a snapshot because someone made them for me. And each one gained meaning from the posts and comments they were attached to. Sure, I can save the files and keep them on my computer, but it won't be the same.
Sometimes I wonder how different my life would be if I could more easily let go of the past. It's not like I ever plan to go back and reread any of my old posts. I don't like the person I used to be, and revisiting that will only fill me with regret and shame, which, despite what some people think, is not a good way to live.
I'm not going to renew my paid account, and I will most likely not post more than once or twice a year. It's just not who I am anymore.
Each of those icons means something, though. They are memories captured in tiny pictures, in many cases more meaningful than a snapshot because someone made them for me. And each one gained meaning from the posts and comments they were attached to. Sure, I can save the files and keep them on my computer, but it won't be the same.
Sometimes I wonder how different my life would be if I could more easily let go of the past. It's not like I ever plan to go back and reread any of my old posts. I don't like the person I used to be, and revisiting that will only fill me with regret and shame, which, despite what some people think, is not a good way to live.
I'm not going to renew my paid account, and I will most likely not post more than once or twice a year. It's just not who I am anymore.