Memories.

It feels good to start all over again; if only we could do this with everything in our lives...

So. The past week has been a revival of sorts. The mother came back one day with a beautiful watch that belonged to the father. And I dug up her vintage Dior sling handbags from her glamourous twenties. The theme running through these items (besides the fact that they're older than I am) is that they've all got gold accents somewhere. A clasp, lining, logo... The gold necklace the father gave me as a child (that I recently got reacquainted with) currently adorns my neck. For some reason, gold has been appearing in my life a lot lately. It started with a rosary ring.

The rosary ring.

I wanted to sell it. Get rid of it. And in getting rid of it I thought, maybe I would be able to achieve catharsis of some sort. Like purging my life of anything that reminded me of him would get rid of memories of him. But I didn't do it because it's a religious object. And so it was sitting in the living room, untouched, after everything fell to pieces, because I couldn't bear to look at it.

Until tonight.

Until tonight.

I'm over-caffeinated.

I decided that... I want to start wearing it again.

But what connotation it would have... I don't know.

I feel sad when I look at it.

It's like looking at my failure in my face.

And of course, because he has one as well, it is like... Looking at something, the one thing, that still connects the both of us. And I don't know if that's a good idea. In fact, I would probably go on record to say that it isn't a good idea. At all.

But maybe, just maybe, I need this something to remind me of my mistakes, to make sure that I do not repeat those mistakes again.

Ever again.