I wonder if it is strange to keep old emails from people you dated in your inbox. I'm tempted to go back and reread them sometime, but dependency on the past seems like an emotional dead end.
One of the things I treasure the most is a hand written letter I received upon my graduation from high school. I had a crush on the girl, her skin was the soft hues of umber, and she was such a beautiful girl. In that letter she wished that I had trusted her more, wished that I did more with her, I remember receiving this letter in the mail, looking at the delicate blue ink that spilt her feeling out on to notebook paper and I thought about those missed opportunities. I don’t pull the thing out and read it, but it is nice to know that there is some documentation that proves once someone felt affection towards me. I think that is why I keep the emails, but Arial 11 really lacks that human warmth. I’ve wondered if I should read them, knowing how most of these things end, but I have successfully fought that urge. The past is the past is the past, and nothing good can come from exhuming it from its silent crypt. I don’t need to know how awkwardly earnest I have been, I don’t need to read my pompous responses I get to live with it every day.
It’s an ego thing, I suppose, but I do get a sort of warm feeling knowing once, very briefly someone was intrigued enough by me to waste hundreds of words with me.
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