just not into me…

finally started on the purge of marriage memorabilia that’s been sitting in my spare bedroom for years now, gathering dust. I’ve been avoiding it, in part because I really hate to clean, but mostly because it’s 95% stuff I gave to ex and well, I just didn’t want to face the me I was back then.

As I thought in the beginning of my avoidance of cleaning out these boxes, the stupid me.

But really, it was the pathetic me.

The young me who didn’t know what a healthy relationship looked like.

The needy me.

The me who didn’t recognize her own worth.

The me that’s a part of my past.

The me that helped shape my future.

The me that I no longer am.

I’ve got a overflowing box of things I’m going to burn now. It seems fitting, somehow.

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