i don’t know if I’m weird for this, but i like to imagine my mind as a museum of memories, and i’m the keeper. every day, i stroll through my exhibits, making sure everything is kept pristine, just to ensure nothing is lost, damaged, or even forgotten. sure, I may have seen these things before, but its always nice to see them again. to look at my little puzzle pieces of the past, and maybe, one day, form them into the larger picture i miss so badly.
not to mention the joy when i find something new. something i thought I’d lost, kept in pristine condition all this time, hiding away from me until the time was right for me to find it. it’s always so nice to blow the dust off of it, clean it off, and put it up for display in my little museum.
i know nobody else cares as much about it as i do, and that’s okay. i can take care of these memories every day, just in case someone wants to come visit my little museum sometime, ill have everything in order for them. honestly, i find it hard not to care. the past has such a large influence on me, it’s not even funny. every day i go looking through old videos and pictures, just to reminisce on what i once had.
i know it’s not good to stay stuck in the past, but its one of my only sources of comfort. to look back on once was, and feel just an ounce of that joy i felt so long ago. i know i’ll need to move on eventually, put these memories to rest, and stop checking up on them every day as if they’re going to disappear. but, i think i’ll stay in my museum for just a little bit longer. i’m not ready to leave yet.
