Love Letters

It probably isn't a good thing that I know where to find physical reminders of what was. It brings me great sadness when I look upon the things I still hold on to that invoke these memories. Sadness because like I've said, it makes me yearn for what was.

I look around in my room and on my bedside drawer, I have a book titled "Westing Game". It's a pretty good read, well, for the parts I've actually read. I've not really picked up any book ever since starting my job. This is a book that S had given me because she had a few copies, originally intended for other friends, but she never got a chance to give it to them, and since we had gotten close in December, she decided to give it to me. Inside of the book, she also left me a letter that I guess I see it as a love letter. Or at least a letter that holds more emotional value than say a letter from a friend. Although don't get me wrong, to get a letter these days is actually really cool and is something I have not gotten in a few years from when I wrote some letters to my family during my first semester of college.

The letter holds a special place in my heart because it's the first letter I've ever gotten from anyone outside of the family. Then to make it even more valuable, it was written by a girl of interest (written by S in case you couldn't figure it out). During the time before the news of academic suspension, I would re-read that letter relatively frequently (say every few days or so) because I had missed her. I still miss her because even if we're only friends, I just want to make more memories with her in person. But whatever I can get to maintain a friendship will be enough for me. It's good to know I still have friends even after my destructive tendencies.

So today, I re-read that letter again. And naturally it made me wish for the times I had with her. Those great memories. Times of warm feelings and being warmer in the winter as Lindsey Stirling's song would say. Part of me says to not have re-read it again. To discard the letter so as to never invoke the memories and potential pain of knowing what I had lost. But there are stronger senses of "don't do that. Hold on to this letter. Keep it with only the one fold it has, do not do anything to damage it". I don't know what I should do. Do I put it away somewhere where it will stay in its current condition, and some place that I won't have access to it so as to not linger in my sorrows?

I cherish the letter. It was a really nice gesture and I treasure the genuine feeling and emotion behind it. To know the more personal and emotional side of S. To know that she was once comfortable being open and vulnerable with me.

What do I do with the letter? I don't want to throw it away or otherwise affect the letter in any capacity. But then I probably shouldn't have it easily accesible either, right?