Random Vaugness

This week has been one of the more random weeks since moving here. It seems that when it rains, it pours. One friend has a situation, and then suddenly, another friend has a similar yet not related situation, and then, of course, I have one...weird. But, God is good and everything happens for a reason.

Sorry for the vagueness (a friend "accused" me of being rather vague about my week this week, so my apologies), but that really isn't the reason I started writing this.

My roommate, Jamie, and I FINALLY got to move into our permanent apartment this weekend. I cannot TELL you how excited I was to be able to unpack boxes and finally begin to make California my home. However, I think some things multiplied while sitting in the boxes for a month. Nope, not my shoes (I wish)--my books. Can't seem to fit them on my 3 bookcases to save my life! And I got rid of a ton before I moved!

Anyway, my books are also not my reason for writing. While unpacking, I've run across a number of personal items (letters, pictures, postcards, journals) that I had completely forgotten about or had been missing for AGES. How weird it is to go back and read about your life, or recall the person who sent the letter, or look at pictures of you and a past significant other and realize you don't really want that memory anymore (not because you're bitter, just because you no longer have reason to hang on to it) so you throw it away.

Some memories can be easily tossed. Others you want to toss but it isn't so easy. And then there are those that you don't know what to do with--they aren't good or bad, they just...are. But, if I hang on to the memory, am I allowing myself to become emotionally attached to something or someone that I shouldn't be attached to? Or can I keep the memory without the attachment, fondly recalling it every so often, but not obsessing over it?

As a woman, I have the tendency to become emotionally attached too easily. Not to say that men don't or can't; sometimes I think they can more easily unattach themselves from the emotion.

My friend Allie put it best: a relationship is like a tapestry; when you rip the tapestry in half, it is never completely ripped apart the first time. There are still little threads that you have to pull out from each half before it is completely free. This is true in relationships and memories; but where is line? When is it okay to have a few threads from the past hanging on to you, and when do you have to do everything you can to pull them free?

A tough question, maybe one without an answer. And I'm not really looking for an answer this time around. Well, maybe a vague one.