You and your memory

Opening this suitcase was like opening Pandora’s box. Old letters, pages and pages of intimate emails from a relationship that feels like it existed millions of years ago, old English exams and essays where I achieved particularly good marks, school reports and awards. Old school photos – they were hard to look at. I’d only written earlier about how long my hair was, but I had genuinely forgotten just how long. And thin! Sometimes I forget that my body has the ability to be that way. It’s reassuring right now.

The school reports were interesting. Some of the comments like ‘an intelligent girl, but she needs to apply herself’ or ‘Karen would achieve better results if she would spend more time on revision’ or ‘Karen has a particularly independent spirit’ ring true, even though they feel like they were written about someone else. There were a lot of school awards there but they were for art, art and art, with the odd English award thrown in. I’d forgotten how well I’d done in English.

Long story short – I’ve found what I need. Although now I feel all melancholy, and the urge to go through the rest of that stuff is very hard to resist. I can’t quite decide if it would be healthy to go through it all, or just not worth it. The more I look at it all the more I’m remembering about what’s there. Perhaps it would be okay – it’s all a reminder of the person I was before I lost myself. And that can’t be a bad thing.

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