a box of old stuff

i have finally and completely moved.

4 boxes, and many more to go,

but i'm out of that apartment and into a brand new one.

my sister and I counted, our 10th move.

apartment apartment house apartment apartment.

so as i was going though some of my old stuff, i came across a blue old box that looked like it had been warped by hundreds of years. a thick layer of dust coated the top and elementary stickers covered the sides.

i opened it and found all my elementary school journals, pictures and just, memories. they poured out of that box. but one things that i found: diaries.

diaries that said 'memories' on them, another was a harry potter diary, which i find ironic because i always make fun of my sister for being a harry potter freak. alright let me just put it out there, i like harry potter. who doesn't?

anyway, in my move all together i found around seven or eight diaries. filled with stuff. heavy stuff, light stuff just all this stuff i totally and completely forgot about. entirely.

as i began to read them, i was seriously transported back to my years in 5th grade, 6th grade and so on. it was an eye opener to how much i have seriously changed.

i found letters from my old best friends, and in my diaries i actually wrote about each friend. old fights, good times, and the notorious crushes all came back to me.

the boys i liked!!! i remember reading the first time a boy asked me out (typical response for me: no; so some things haven't changed), i read about my first best friend and how we became friends from hanging out at the monkey bars; literally this stuff was golden.

it was so funny when i addressed my older self, like, 'older salina if you are reading this..." and it was so strange because i was. i was like sitting with my younger self and experiencing everything again with her.

i had totally forgotten how much i hated my middle school, and pretty much everyone in it. i drew pictures and wrote charts and made lists.

as i was reading this feeling came back to me. i wasn't just remembering it like a picture, i was remembering the feel of that time. the feel of the old town and school i used to go to. everything was just a feeling, not a memory because i hardly remember half the stuff i wrote about.

wow, i feel so old. i'm 15 years old and i'm old. i guess i do miss that 'era' of my life, even though there were hard times. pictures can only take you back so far, but for me it was the diaries that brought me the rest of the way.

so thank you younger self.