Transitions

This is the last time I'll sit in this house in Sioux Falls as an actual resident, and I marked the occasion by cleaning out cabinets in my dresser and my desk, finding a collection of old letters, letters that remind me of how I became who I am today, and while I kept many, there were some that clearly had to be sacrificed to new beginnings. Old love letters, surprisingly, do not keep well, nor do they get better with age. So it was with an unexpectedly large glass of whiskey that I re-read letters that had remained hidden for a great amount of time before tearing them and throwing them in the trash. It's funny, in a way, how those letters expose a completely different self than the one I feel I am now.

I'll never forget the past, and I'll certainly never forget those women, but some things need to pass on.