Sigh.

So that blog that I posted last night... my computer froze up. I thought it hadn't posted. But it did! Having thought that it was lost forever, I went back to my room to clean and pack. Here's tonights blog, which I wrote thinking that last night's never made it up:


I decided, however, to forget about it, that it was God telling me to forget the entire subject.
So I went back to packing up my closet and stuff. And I came across another box. Not the cherished one that I elaborated for ages on last night, but a cheap one. It was full of the things that were on my corkboard when my parents moved my sister into my room.
And I found something.
After all the things I stumbled on last night that really made me sad and upset and angry and shameful, I found something.
I'll repeat some of what I typed last night, I guess, to remind myself of how this built up.
I found a special rock. I thought my mom gave it to me. I was wrong- someone else did. Someone very special to me. And I read the letter, that I found next to the rock, and that's how I figured out who gave it to me.
I stumbled on other letters. They were meant to be opened on specific dates while I was in Italy.
I opened them. On the dates. I waited, impatiently, to open each one.
So I was very sad to read them last night.
So I wrote a blog about how it made me sad, and that's the blog that got erased.

So I went back to packing up. And I found this plain box. And the thing inside it.
It ripped at my heart.
I hate talking like this. I hate thinking like this. I hate feeling like this. It's not manly. It's not macho.
I never thought I would.... never thought I'd kept them... never thought I'd find them... I dunno, but they were so far removed from my mind.

Two tickets.
The Perfect Storm.


And I thought I was all better now.
I'm not.