Perhaps today’s the right day to dump my keepsakes of that “old deepest feeling” or of the time when I was attached to the sadness for that feeling.
I realized those stuffs will keep appearing and I’ll just reopen the wounds which didn’t make sense anymore.
So today I burned those little works of sentiments I had,the diaries most of all. It was not easy to let go of those old stories of me, of my innocent heartaches because that person’s been with me, she’s like a friend I didn’t want to see leaving. Only that the old person must be the burden weighing me down; so long as she’s there she’ll only keep hauling me towards her.
When I burned the stuffs,I admit I felt bad because it was an act of destruction but I felt good because it was freedom!
I read some pages before the fire and I ached not for the reason why she wrote them, I ached for the person who wrote them, the weak young girl who didn’t have an idea how to get through the smothered nights. Then today I watched her leave,I watched her in ashes, she’s now free and didn’t have to stay here to suffer.