All I Have Left Is The Memories Of Us

Once you left you took a piece of me that I only shared with you. You made me realize you can’t build homes in people.

By

M I S C H E L L E
M I S C H E L L E
M I S C H E L L E

I spent a lot of time cleaning out my room last night. I’m getting ready to leave the house I’ve called home for the past two years and started to let go of the possession I’ve held on to for far too long. But it seemed more frequently than not I found things that reminded me of you. It filled me with happiness and a heart-wrenching sadness thinking of the past.

I pulled out old hoodies of yours that were stuffed in the back of my closet, a shirt I set away and meant to give back to you but that hasn’t yet to happen. I found some old t-shirts you gave me because you knew they were my favorites, but outside of all the material items I dug out I found pictures in a box in the back of my closet.

I looked through them, flipping through each one with a growing smile on my face. Each one had a different memory associated with it, but they all made me think of the good times we spent together. The thing about pictures is no matter what is happening in life now, when you flip back you can remember exactly what you were doing at the time it was taken. You can remember exactly how you were feeling at that moment and feel a sense of happiness overcome you.

But with that happiness also came a crashing wave of sadness that started sending uncontrollable tears down my cheeks.

Those pictures are a reminder that my life has changed. They remind me that I no longer have you in my life. They bring back memories that I am no longer making. I have to look at those pictures now and realize that life is no longer like that.

No matter how incredible it was at that point in my life, I will never get that time back and things will never be the way they used to be.

It doesn’t matter if that one of those memories reminded me one of the happiest moments in my life because now all I have is the distorted memory of what that day or minute was and it’s long gone now. I have the picture to look at to remind me what the weather was like, where we were, what I was wearing and what I was feeling.

But that is all I have. Memories of what used to be.

I have no way to go back. No way to relive those moments, at least feel that way again exactly because you’re gone. Just like I stashed away the pictures in a box in the back of my closet and forgot about them is what I tired to do with our memories, until one thing after another reminded me of you.

You inspired part of me, a part of me I loved and a part of me that I haven’t felt since you left. You made me feel a comfort I haven’t felt in a long time, you made me feel like I found a home in someone, and you were the person I could turn to for everything. As much as it hurts that you’re gone I am glad I got to experience that with you. You were everything I could have wanted in a best friend, but once you left you took a piece of me that I only shared with you.

You made me realize you can’t build homes in people.

Pictures really are worth a thousand words intertwined with a thousand memories that I’m glad I’ve stashed away for myself to look at in times of loneliness because it reminds me that I am not alone. The pictures remind me just how lucky I am and how lucky I was to have had someone who had such a positive impact on my life. Even though things aren’t like they used to be, I know that they will be again in the future and I will feel that same passion and inspiration from someone.

Until then, I have to find it in myself and I will tuck your memory back in the box in the back of my closet. Thought Catalog Logo Mark