Member-only story
LIFE
Set Myself Free From My Past
I burned precious letters filled with memories of the past
Nine years ago, while I was sorting out things to make space for my upcoming second daughter, I came across large files of letters that I wrote to and received from friends during my early adulthood of extreme instability. Words on those previously snow-white, then brownish-yellow papers that were resisting aging brought me sorrow and pain.
I used to be a prolific correspondent. Those thick piles of pages were part of my life. They were precious materials for my memoir one day.
Except that day never came.
Whenever I glanced accidentally at the letters when searching for documents in the past, my heart would wrench.
Then, on that momentous day, I decided to burn them.
Sitting in front of the tin can with papers on fire and seeing words disappear in flames, I had no tears. No sighs. No lamentation.
Gone were the tough years of trying to survive in the world alone.
Gone were some of the mean acts of an ex-boyfriend.
Gone was the struggle of working while attending school.
