•´¯`•. ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴛ .•´¯`• -ᴘᴛ 𝟷
╰☆☆ sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴀ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇ sᴘʀɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴ, ʏᴏᴜ ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ғᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙᴏx ғɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴋᴇᴇᴘsᴀᴋᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀsᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛs ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs, ʟᴏɴɢ-ʙᴜʀɪᴇᴅ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs ʀᴇsᴜʀғᴀᴄᴇ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ᴀs ᴅᴇᴄʟᴜᴛᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴜʀɴs ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴғʀᴏɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴛɪʟʟ ʟɪɴɢᴇʀs ɪɴ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ.
╰☆☆ ᴄᴡ:ɴᴏsᴛᴀʟɢɪᴄ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs, ʀᴇғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴘᴀsᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ, ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴᴛʀᴏsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍʙɪɢᴜᴏᴜs ʟᴏss.
The sound of coffee pouring carried into every corner of the kitchen. I had so much to do today, but I was ready for it. I added a spoonful of sugar to my coffee and stirred until the spoon clinked softly against the mug. I went upstairs to get the first and most overwhelming task done; I wanted to take advantage of the peak of energy I get in the mornings.
Okay, let’s do this, I thought as I stared down my closet, trying to decide where to start. I set a timer for forty-five minutes, then I would take a break from this. I started moving boxes around, looking through the clothes I had—picking out what to keep, what to sell, and what to donate. I am extremely grateful for what I have, but right now I hated my younger self for buying so much stuff I wasn’t going to use for the rest of my life.
I opened a drawer full of random things I didn’t remember I had: cable cords, corded headphones, old cassettes. At the bottom of the drawer, I saw it.
The color was still as bright as I remembered—crimson red, the yellow Post-it note still attached.
“To never forget where you come from.”
Mom. When I moved out and to another country, she wrote this note and hid it inside my luggage. I miss her.
I took the box out of the drawer and, as the nostalgic woman I am, opened it and sat on the floor to see what was inside.
The box was bigger than I remembered. It was full of pictures of me and my high school friends, postcards, and random mementos from the places I’ve traveled to. I picked up one of the pictures and turned it around to see a message written on the back:
“We’re going to miss you. Never forget about your trusty ten.”
A picture of my friends from book club. I loved that place—having friends to discuss a book you just read is great.
Another photo caught my eye: me, my mom, and Pastry, my dog. Mom and I used to do everything together. Being far away from her makes my heart ache, even though we call each other every day and I get to see her every other month. It still feels strange being away for so long when I was used to seeing her every day.
The sound of the timer ending jolted me out of my thoughts. I took a sip of my coffee, which was already getting cold, set the box aside, and continued my mission to finish decluttering this closet by the end of the day.
I checked my phone—4:00 p.m.—and I was already done with half of the closet. I decided to leave the rest for tomorrow; my back was hurting a lot and I already felt tired. I took the red box downstairs and sat on the couch to continue going through what was inside.
I found a keychain from my trip to Rome. Rome holds such a special place in my heart; that was the first time I got to study abroad. I went there just for a semester and met the most amazing people. Juliana and I became best friends from day one. She was my roommate, and we had the craziest things happen to us. I smiled. That was the best time of my life.
As I kept moving things around inside the box, something else caught my eye.
“What is this doing here?” I said out loud.
A bracelet embroidered with the name “Niall.”
I hadn’t heard that name in years.
At the bottom of the box, there were more things—his things, or maybe ours.
A postcard from London.
Spain.
Tokyo.
Korea.
I picked up the one from London first.
“I can’t wait to see you next week. You owe me dinner. Niall xx”
“I need to learn Spanish now. I heard it’s the most romantic language… or was it French? Anyways, love you always. Niall xx”
“IF YOU HAD TOLD ME ABOUT THE BIGGEST SUSHI BUFFET IN THE WORLD I WOULDN’T HAVE BELIEVED YOU. Well, maybe that’s why you didn’t tell me. Haha. Japan, the place for OG sushi. Love you always. Niall xx”
“If you had to choose one dish for the rest of your life, what would it be? For me, anything fried and Korean-made. I don’t know why I keep ruining these postcards for you… they’re meant for us to keep. Love you always. Niall xx”
I held the last one longer than the others.
It didn’t feel like words anymore. It felt like something that had stopped existing but never properly ended.
We met by accident.
The kind of accident that feels staged by something larger than you.
Coffee spilled. Apologies. A laugh that lingered too long to be random.
He offered to replace it.
He never did.
Instead, he stayed.
A picture of us slipped from the stack.
On the back, his handwriting:
“If I had to choose between this and any other life, I will choose this one because I met you.”
I stopped breathing for a moment, I didn’t notice until it passed.
Then I saw it.
Not part of the postcards.
Not part of the memories.
A disposable camera.
Yellowed plastic.
Still intact.
Still waiting.
I turned it over in my hands.
The shutter clicked, but nothing happened.
No flash.
No sound.
Only the small number on the corner:
One exposure left.
Meaning someone never finished the roll.
I stared at it for a long time.
And for the first time, the past stopped feeling like something finished.
It felt unfinished in a different way.
╰☆☆ ᴀɴ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ɢᴜʏs ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀʟs! ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ? ɪ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴀᴄʜɪɴɢ sᴛᴜғғ. ᴏғᴄ ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪs ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ, sᴏ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ʙʏ ғʀɪᴅᴀʏ, ɪᴛs ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ sᴄʜᴇᴅᴜʟᴇᴅ!!!
ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍʏ ᴘᴏsᴛs ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ʙᴄ, ɢᴜᴇss ᴡʜᴀᴛ? ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ғᴏᴏᴛ ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴡ ɪᴍ ғɪɴᴇ. ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏsᴛ. ᴛʜɪs ʜᴀs ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ.
ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏs, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪs ғɪʀsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ, ʙᴇ sᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ʙᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴀᴘʀᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴏɴᴇs. ʙᴄ ɪ ᴀssᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɪᴛs ɴᴏᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ!
★·.·´¯`·.·★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏᴏɴ ★·.·´¯`·.·★
