Old letters.

When Mark and I were digging ourselves out from underneath our pile of earthly possessions yesterday, and by that I mean, finally ridding my parents basement of all of the STUFF we've put down there for the past five years, I found a bunch of old letters. Not between Mark and I, unfortunately. But between my...yes...my old missionary boyfriend. Laugh if you will, I know it seems weird, but I waited for someone on a mission once.It seems like a whole other life ago, it was really about 8 years though. Ask me about it later if you want to.

I saved a lot of letters in this book and then there is a shoebox full...

So here's the thing. What do I do with like two hundred letters? I don't really want to read them again. I am over and done with the guy, we don't talk at all, he's happily married...

Throw them away I guess. It's just strange seeing mementos from the past, a past you've forgotten about, moved on from and don't think of although you lived so deeply in it.

On a side note, related but in a sideways way, I think the only thing tugging at me to NOT through away the letters is just to save them for the archival sense of keeping the past documented. Which, in writing this reminded me of a neat treasure I found yesterday that some day I will finish scanning, restoring and translating. Old letters and cards and photos a friend of a friend found in his east-coast home's attic from more than one hundred years ago. Neat.


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