supuestamente ya yo te olvidé pero, son las 11:34 y de ti me acordé
el conejo malo

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supuestamente ya yo te olvidé pero, son las 11:34 y de ti me acordé
el conejo malo

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“Not all cages have bars; some are made of memories.” — unknown
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“The world is shaped by two things — stories told and the memories they leave behind.”
Vera Nazarian, Dreams of the Compass Rose

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I had every intention of burning it. Of burning all of the memories. As I packed all of the pictures, the notes, the stuffed animals, into a bag, I held this fat yellow stuffed duck and I paused for a brief moment. But that moment was enough. Maybe burning it was the wrong way to go. I cried for a few minutes, but then my friends (all in a group message) knew that I was upset, so they did everything they could to cheer me up. And it worked of course. My boys have never disappointed me. And after I cried I knew that I wouldn't cry about it again. That was over. And I learned that moving on is easy, it's letting go that's hard. If you can let go, you can move on. And after I cried, I knew I let go. So I packed that duck into the Green Bay bag with everything else. And I don't want to go back, it's time for it to be over. The fighting and the crying. It's time for everyone to move on. The bonfire with my friends is this Saturday night. I know what they expect me to do. They want me to let go, so that I can stop hurting. Saturday were all letting go, they said they wouldn't let me go through this alone. But I've gotten another idea. While if everything was burnt, it would be gone and there would truly be no going back. But maybe I should lock it all into a box, hide it in my closet with the only key, and wait. I know that eventually I would forget about it. Not only because it would be in the depths of my closet, but as time goes by it won't nag at me anymore. So maybe when I finally move out, after my senior year I hope, then when I'm packing everything up, I'll find the box and open it after all these years. I'll look at these things not as an omen as I do now, but as good memories. As my life from 5-9 grade, and just maybe I'll look at it and remember and I'll smile. I haven't yet decided if I should let go now, or hold onto these little things until all of this no longer matters.