Memories

One of my many great character flaws is my tendency to go sentimental. I'm an emotional pack rat. I cling to my memories, hoard them, and linger in them when nobody's looking like a child stashing stolen cookies. I delicately finger through old pictures like a mother tracing her infant's ear, store notes like a squirrel stashing nuts away for the winter, and meander through daydreams over what used to be and might have been.

I really should be better at letting things go. More often than not the memories are naught but empty shells. I press them to my ear and they echo of salty waves and sun-kissed shores. When I set them down, reality sets back in and I realize the coast is hours away, still in cold, wintry Provo.

This is me resolving to be better. Remembering the past is good so long as it doesn't distract us from the future. I need to charge forward with that faith that things will only get better. Just because things haven't gone they way I originally planned doesn't mean that things won't eventually piece together so that the whole picture is clear. Someday I'll look back and it will all make sense. For now, I need to get back to work...