Memory Box

With trembling fingers, I gently lift open the cover of this cardboard box and place it next to me on the bed
Still wrapped in a an old cloth is that first framed photo, the one that sat on my night stand for what felt like an eternity
Two radiant smiling, two lovers of life, two carefree faces scarcely recognizable to me today
Still spellbound by her bright blue eyes, my mind spins in a daze as I recall those sensations that were so new, so honest, and so pure
Taking for granted something so beautiful, something so real, something I naively believed I could hold onto forever
A comparison of these two lives causes my head to drop with heartache and sadness

As I scan through old photo albums I see a confident man, kissing, holding, and loving the beautiful woman by his side
I flip through the pages and it’s more of the same, each photo more and more tear-soaked than the one before
I’m immersed with memories far deeper and connections much more meaningful than I was prepared to handle 
Remembrances once pushed aside are now brought back to the forefront, and this sadness quickly intensifies  
I look on for as long as I can before the album slips through my finger and crashes onto the floor
My face crumbles into my hands, engulfed by the absence of unfulfilled dreams, that I must force myself to breathe

Back to this memory box go these photos and out comes a folder filled with recollections of a personal touch
Leafing through hand-drawn illustrations from an old sketch pad, some humorous, some more serious, all identifiable 
Next I pull out handful after handful of handwritten poems, each written, with what feels like, centuries ago
My thoughts penned on sheets of loose-leaf, fast food napkins, backs of receipts, or anything else nearby when the moment inspired
Though far removed from that life, instantly I’m delivered back to that moment when I put pen to paper for the first time
I force myself to temporarily stop; pure exhaustion drops me to one knee 

Next I pull out handfuls of paper like they are weeds of grass, all different sizes and textures, some wadded, some cut up
Emails, chats, status updates, and other correspondences at one time printed out and since tucked away in no particular order 
Unfairly, each paragraph, each line, and each little phrase bombarding me with an anecdote that I had consciously chosen to relinquish 
Each memory driving me deeper and deeper into a period of time that I have struggled so mightily to move beyond
So many moments since that existence, but without even the slightest of warnings I’m taken right back to a time that I’m not ready to remember 
Disillusioned by these recollections that feel like a slow death grip, I slump even further towards the ground

Layering the bottom of this box is her t-shirt, the same one found in a crumpled heap beneath my bed a short time after our final conversation
After all these years, it still smells of her, a perfect combination of vanilla body lotion and jasmine scented hair conditioner
My nose is filled with fragrances forgotten and I’m pressured into recalling events that I believed to be dead and buried forever
My mind disassociates from itself, these fragmented feelings are scattered into hundreds of different directions 
My breathing becomes irregular and uncontrollable as I revisit places I told myself that I would never frequent again
I tremble and my back slides against my couch, my legs outstretched, my body using the leg of the piece of furniture for support 

Tucked inside the t-shirt is a tightly folded note that falls innocently enough onto my lap
But when unwrapped, it’s filled with the deepest, most meaningful love letter that could have ever been written
The pouring out of the most heartfelt of emotions which allowed me to appreciate what it felt like when I was my best self
Reread to myself a thousand times, each phrase, sentence, and paragraph memorized verbatim 
Cognizant of my surroundings, but, at the same time, feeling as unfamiliar in my own home as I ever have before
Ultimately collapsing onto the hardwood floor, sobbing, shuddering, and wondering how I will ever fully rid myself of this pain