The Little Things.

I suppose some of the most memorable memories deal with times that really played with our emotions.

For example.

Remember that one time you laughed so hard you wet your pants?

The time you meant to say something extraordinarily witty but you spit on his/her face instead?

Or perhaps it was a boy you really liked, but he decided he liked somebody else more than you, so you commenced debating if you still liked him.

There are even those memories that seldom take their place anywhere but your heart.

:) Those are arguably the best kind.

And then there are the memories that get placed gently on your shelf in the form of teddy bears and dolls, corsages and dried flowers from your grandmothers funeral. Little things that remind you of places you visited, people you met, birthdays you celebrated, and Christmases you enjoyed. The saddest part about these wonderful little memories, these wonderful little things, is packing them into brown boxes, sealing them with tape, and placing them in the storage pile.

Thank you, Chloe :)

My shelves are empty, my walls are pictureless, the closest is depleated of stuffed animals, and there are two piles in my room. One is for college.

The other?

For putting away the little things that mean so much to me. I know I should be excited about starting a new adventure, but there's something about having to pack away all the little things - the animals I used to hug and the dolls I used to dress up, the glass figures I used to collect and the bouncy balls I used to name - and place them in boxes, not to be taken with me on my next adventure.

While something like this may seem a trivial thing to be sad about, and while no one may ever understand my individual sorrows, no matter how small, one always does.

And the best part is?

They matter to him, too.


Love, Sunshine.