Sometimes I think I'm my own worst enemy and I wonder why I constantly refuse to let the past go the way I do. I wonder why I choose to relive the good and the bad through an inbox of filtered messages at four in the morning when I have a paper to write that is already a day overdue. Lately I've been reminding myself that I'm in a really good place (aside from the overdue paper), and that I don't need the past the way I thought I once did because it isn't the past that actually existed, and even if it was, it was a messy and emotional past a lot of the time and I feel much saner these days anyways.
But even though I know all this, I can't help reading those words sent months and years ago, and wondering what went wrong.
I think Martha is right. It's time to hit that delete button once and for all.