Sex and Tampa Bay

While cleaning out my closet, looking for my f’ugg (faux ugg) boots, I found the Big Box of Lies.

AKA, my box of love letters from the ex.

I was stupid enough to start reading them. Really, they are lovely. The ex wasn’t a very emotional person, but when he put pen to paper it was amazing. The point of them are all the same: “You are the thing in life that makes me happiest and I can’t imagine not having you.”

What happened?

I wish that there was some law that said that when two people break up a romantic autopsy must be completed. Just something to explain what went wrong. Something to help make sense of everything. Was it all a lie? Or did something happen?

This isn’t about me being all weepy. It’s actually more logical than that.

What the helpp do you do with those letters? Everyone says to burn them, but that seems so strange. It was 8 years of my life. And burning them seem so bitter. Besides, fire isn’t going to erase my memories of them. Even when the evidence is gone the crime still happened.

Anyone have any advice? What have you done with your own love letters, and did it actually help you find “closure”?