So I was reading Juno's awesome post about going to a concert and how she would likely need therapy afterwards since the singer carries memories of THAT guy...(go read it, I'll be here when you get back).
A couple of days ago, Madeline was poking around the cupboards and found an old photo album I had from my university days. It was like a loaded ticking timebomb in the shape of a $3 dollar album full of very bittersweet memories.
1. Old university friends who I thought I'd love forever but later drifted away from and now lost forever. The girls I told everything to. The ones I had inside jokes with but eventually we all kind of betrayed each other in some way or another.
2. Plenty of old boyfriends...the guy I went to graduation with, the one who really broke my heart in first year, the one I lost my virginity to, my first university boyfriend, the first guy who said he loved me (ack!)... I kind of giggle cause these were all different "boys"!
3. Pictures of people whose names I'd forgotten. People I'd thought were much more attractive at the time than they actually were. Girls I thought were prettier and better than me. Boys who wouldn't look at me twice.
So I'm left wondering if I should burn the whole damn thing or go through it page by page, feel the pain/nostalgia/cramping and just put it to bed emotionally. I remember putting the album together and it being a bitter experience to begin with - almost a raw need to document the good and the bad. I remember wanting the album to be "true" and not something falsely portraying those years as totally carefree and happy - because they weren't. How the bad ended up outweighing the good I just don't know. And sometimes I wonder if I am a better person now or not? And I wonder why I was so stupid and why I couldn't have done better than I did? And then I think that maybe I was fine - that we all were really - and that's what being in your early 20's is about.
I once swore I didn't regret anything that happened to me or that I did. But I do. What I regret, however, is not what I expected.
I really wish that I'd paid less attention to the drama and politics of the interpersonal and more time to figuring out who I was/am. Maybe what followed wouldn't have happened at all.