Misty, watercoloured memories...

I've been doing a few flashback-inspiring activities today: using the downstairs PC that I have barely touched since getting Audrey and going to university, looking through photos of the Christmas cruises and clearing out drawers and cupboards in my room.

I was on the downstairs PC to look through pictures of the cruise for some DVDs I am making for a few relatives. I put some video clips together in a reasonably nice way, and I had to design DVD covers. I like to work to music, so I checked out what music I had. I found a song I heard on Heroes, S1, and Miss Misery from Good Will Hunting. It was quite nice to find those.

I also played Tyrant by The Bravery, which I listened to a lot when I was with Matt.

Looking through the first cruise's pictures, I found pictures of the day in Trinidad. I remember this day. This was the day Ashley broke my heart. I remember, we didn't buy any internet credits on the ship because Dad said it was too expensive (however, he relented on the second). So, I was excited to get to Trinidad, because my cousins had a dial-up connection, and I could check my mail.

At this point, Ashley and I were getting on very well. We'd agreed that after the Christmas holiday, we'd properly sort things out between us and make it work. So, I checked Hotmail and Facebook eagerly... to find he was "in a relationship". And it wasn't with me.

I cried. I was hurt. Betrayed. Angry. I'd waited for him, and put things aside to wait for him, confident that this would be the time he didn't let me down. But, no. I asked him what had happened later on (I think this was once I'd got back to university) and he told me something that was not "the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth" because it didn't seem to quite make sense.

There was one photo taken of me on that day. I'm smiling, but if you look closely enough, I don't look happy. I wonder if my parents noticed at all.

Clearing the cupboards has been fun. I've gotten quite a lot fatter since high school, so I've got rid of nearly half of my clothes. I also read some letters I got. I found two from Matt (one while we were dating, one while we were fucking), and one from David.

David's letters are brief and succinct. They are also condensed pockets of written love to me. He thinks he writes crap letters but he is wrong because they are really not. They are so condensed and powerful that every time I read one, I always tear up just a tiny bit, because... I feel like he loves me so honestly. It's a little scary sometimes, but I just try to let myself trust him, and trust the Us, and... it's okay.

I didn't read Matt's first letter entirely. I read the second, much briefer, letter however.

It's been interesting to mull over these moments for a while.