I’m on the verge of getting sick. My mom, dad, and sister have spent the last week suffering through one heck of a cold. My gift for coming to visit them this weekend was getting the very same bug.
I’m downing fruit and water like my life depends on it. I’m back to work for the first week of school on Tuesday, and the last thing I want is to be sick. The best I can do is spend the lion’s share of Sunday and Monday as close to asleep as possible. I need to get well fast.
While laying in bed tonight, making my way through the second season of Suits, I remembered how many old files I have saved to my laptop. I put Suits on pause, and started going through them. I started with all of the Instant Messages I saved. I didn’t save every conversation I had on AIM, but I certainly managed to save the significant ones.
As I was reading through them, it was as though I was right back in each of the conversations. I remember exactly where I was when I had each one of them–at my desk, on the floor, in bed. But I also remember precisely how I was feeling during each conversation. It’s heartbreaking to read though them. Why did I save the fights and the break-ups? Why did I ever think I needed to relive those conversations? Was it for posterity? He-said-she-said?
I may never know, but I don’t save conversations like that anymore. Once they’ve happened–they’ve happened. I don’t need them filed away in any place but the annals of memory.
I threw the whole folder away. I probably shouldn’t have read through the IMs before throwing them away, but in the very least–I was reminded exactly what is done and over.