My Junior year of High School my parents moved from the home/hometown where I grew up. The new house contained enough bedrooms for everyone in my family… except for me. I took the hint, and from that time on my personal items have either traveled with me or have been contained to “The Closet”. “The Closet” contained: books, clothes, pictures, awards, clippings, art projects, stuffed animals, memorabilia, cards, craft supplies, sewing supplies, year books, etc.

Every, EVERY time I go home my mom’s task for me is the same: to go through “The Closet”. Over the years, as my tie to the items lessen, more and more has been thrown out. This trip home was no exception, and, with this very thorough cleansing, “The Closet” has halved itself once more. Only the essentials now survive (which was necessary as I have been informed that “The Closet” will now be relocated to a harder-to-reach storage space).

It’s completely amazing to look back on all the artifacts from my past. Some positive standouts of this exorcism:
I was an awesome artist beginning at the age of two. I’m framing five of my favorites ages two through six.
I was a good looking high school student and never ever knew it.
People like me. They really, really like me. Teachers, friends, etc., I have the cards to prove it people.

It’s also amazing to see what high emotions are thrown around when you are young. I read through a series of VERY dramatic emails I printed, which mapped out the downfall of a middle school friendship.

Boys also seemed to be a heavy topic. Boys are never quite the same in high school as they are in “real life”. This is good, but also not as chaotically romantic, which can be lovely fun. For an example (also found in “The Closet”) I doubt a New York man would ever try to woo me with a poem such as this:

Of every splendid star harnessed high in spaces sea
Sweeping thorough the heavens, with beauty true and free
I will tell the celestial story the never best I can
Of the brightest start of all- her name Erin Brianne
For all other starts composed of jasper and pearl
Can not vie with her most free and uncaring curl
She gives off the presence of such magnificent light
That everyday I can’t wait for the night
Her words are like music, her walk is a dance
The life of a star, heart beating romance
‘Till every moment with her is spend with a song
With a starlight so bright, the night is so long

Looking into the pouring sky I am driven insane
For she is the only star I see through the haze of the rain
And each time through life that I see her cry
From the heartless society of evil gone by
A small piece of myself flows down her cheek like tears
Embracing her pain, easing her fears

For that dark September bight when she was born
A small piece out of heaven was torn
And fell to the Earth
For a miraculous birth
Before that night all stars shown bright as the sun
But as she fell, their beauty transcended into one
Now every star is dim and very small
While there is a child from Heaven with the beauty of them all



Seriously. How sweet.