(the end of the beginning with the legit six)
When I moved out of my parents home two years ago I was not ready to give up my childhood. It was a hard time for me. A time of change I was just not ready for. So instead of going through all the stuff in my bedroom I boxed it up and put it in the attic. Then last night in preparation for my moving home for the summer I went through the boxes. I found nice notes others had written me. I found old dresses from baptism to prom. I found baby blankets and baby dolls. In essence I found my childhood.
Looking back I wonder why I kept all of this stuff. Mom says if I have kept it this long I might as well keep it a little longer. Dad says I am a pack rat. As for me I have mixed feelings. As I look at some of the pictures of me I want to rip them up. I am not that girl anymore. I am stronger than that. I would never let the things that happened to that girl in the photo happen to me. Sadly though that girl is apart of me. She is someone who I need to learn to respect. Does this make any sense? I hope it does.
Although I did find a gem of a past birthday present from this boy still on a mission. Still in the plastic wrap and all. It even has a little coupon for a free dinner of my choice. Maybe I will take him up on this offer when he comes home.