Better By Nightfall

While searching for some items to sell on ebay.com and half.com these last two nights I managed to come across a couple old boxes full of things that I had forgotten about since college started two years ago. I remember trying to sort through the contents long before I left for college, but as we moved to our new house I simply threw some of my stuff in random boxes and never really looked at it until I got to each box individually. Eventually summer passed and I had only managed to sort out the basic stuff for my room: my books, my desk, the things to throw away and things to give away. The things that had yet to be sorted, however, remained in their boxes as I returned to Idaho to start college. Yet, as I left, I remember wanting to sort the items out by the year's end when I returned to Germany for winter vacation. I never did though.

In fact, I had completely forgotten about them. And while part of me wants to believe that I didn't forget about them, because I usually remember so many things, I really did forget about these boxes. I'm sure a great deal of my forgetfulness about these boxes can be attributed to their new placement during the last couple of visits home, but I'm still surprised that I never realized they had been moved.

Regardless, I decided to finally go through the boxes to sort the contents and hopefully find some old books or video games to sell. What I found in these boxes, however, I didn't expect at all. Instead of finding books and games, I ended up rummaging through numerous pictures, clippings, letters, notes and other bits from my past. Items that I had treasured and held in high regard back in high school that, as they slipped through my hands, meant nothing to me anymore.

I picked up a pack of photos and flipped open the package only to find photos of people I haven't talked to in forever. People I don't even talk to anymore. People I haven't seen in two years. People I remember, and those I that don't want to remember. I scrambled for another pack of photos, but this time I was more reluctant to open it. What faces, places, and stories would these pictures tell? I hesitated. Maybe it was better not looking at the past? Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed high school and I had good friends and great times, but I also knew that so much had changed since then that it made looking back seem kind of awkward. Still, my curiosity got the better of me as I opened the next batch. More people. More stories. More memories of moments long since passed. My mind flooded with thoughts of "I wonder what happened to...", "Wow, I can't believe that this is the same person..." and much more.

It started thinking about how much things have changed--how drastically things can change in a single year. It's not that I hadn't realized things changed, but rather that I just thought I moved on without having to look back at these items again.

And yet, in many ways I'm glad I stumbled upon them. As I sifted through the rest of the box and organized the items, I started to realize that all of these things have helped shape who I am and what I know. Trivial things like trying to make sure a certain depressive friend was always happy or keeping tabs on activities in places I hadn't been in years (among many others) no longer held any bearing. Sure, they were pivotal back then. Yet, now, I realize that the 20 year-old me wouldn't even bother with these situations, activities, or people now. Things that caused so much stress back then aren't even worth my time now.

I guess that's been the biggest relief in sorting these items so far: realizing that things are only as difficult as I choose to make them. I could've severed some of these ties a long time ago and saved myself a lot of stress, but part of me felt and thought that so many aspects of the situations in my life were out of my hands. Or maybe I just didn't want to complicate things because I thought they were fine, or I just didn't want things to get worse. That's not the case anymore. I'm finally seeing that I wield a great amount of control over the things that happen in my life and how I deal with them, I just never knew how much until now.

As for the boxes and their contents, I haven't decided what to do with all of them yet. I do, however, know that where they finally end up (in another box for keepsakes or shreded and recycled/trashed) doesn't matter much anymore. I've gotten everything I needed from them.


Maybe the world will look like this forever.
You can breathe, you can breathe now.