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Postcards From Rome

I’m in the midst of cleaning/purging my room. I’ve found quite a few random bits and bobs, some of which have met the bin, and some of which have near about slew me.  Specifically Aaron’s postcards that he wrote me from Rome while I was working at the summer camp in Maine. There were buried on the bottom of a hamper and have somehow managed to miss every other Aaron purge that I have ever done.

They were such innocent little things. They are so simple, so little. Filled with nonsense and inside jokes. They just seem so…normal. There are no portends of out impending doom. No hidden hints at his waining affections. They are just note scribbled from one lover to the other. But, alas, they make me sad. Strangely more sad than his baby picture that I stumbled upon. The little boy in that picture is a stranger that vaguely resembles a guy I once knew. Those notes are something so much more. Aaron connecting to me across the distance that separated us. And I haven’t a clue what to do with the damn things…stupid man…


About Beating Heart, Spinning Mind

Professional dreamer. Searching for a job and greater meaning. Being a good girlfriend...well, trying to.


4 thoughts on “Postcards From Rome

  1. Mail them back to him to show him what he threw away.

    Posted by Missy | February 1, 2011, 3:28 pm
  2. Ah, I once came across an old photo of a love, threw me for a loop. Part of me says, toss them out as he tossed you. Another part says tuck them away…years from now, when your heart has healed and you have found love, you can read them with fondness of what once was. Love to you…

    Posted by Kristina Hooper | February 2, 2011, 12:59 am

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