Melancholy baby

I lost a piece of my past last night.

Well, okay. I didn't actually lose it last night, but last night I realized it was lost. I looked and I looked, and despite my propensity to keep everything I have ever written on, it was gone. The notebook containing the story I wrote when I was 13 is gone. I helped my mom move a few months ago, and I went on a dangerous chucking spree. I was reckless. I thought I knew what I was throwing away. I thought I saved everything that was important.

I was wrong.