cast me gently into morning for the night has been unkind

it is rare these days that i have trouble sleeping. rare, at least, to the point that i get up and start looking through the sizable blue trunk that takes up space in my bedroom. i know ive mentioned it lately... giving away and getting rid of things... it seems its taken me awhile to feel comfortable letting go.

so these days, its quite easy. i make a quick judgement and usually its a decision to say goodbye. really, i should clarify: i am a saver. i keep things, i always have, little mementos of my life, and over the years these items have accumulated so much so that ... well, how many 5th grade papers does a person actually need to remember what it was like in ms. auburn's class? answer: none. unless they are particularly good writing.

the items rediscovered tonight range from old magazines with david duchovny on the cover, years past assembly programs and a slew of half-used notebooks. it seems i have a problem with buying new notebooks before finishing the old ones. but i have already admitted my issues with stationary.

an alarming but not altogether surprising discovery was a childish poem, arguing the benefits and drawbacks of suicide. there, at thirteen years old, in my best trying-to-be-adult handwriting.

there were poems that emily wrote, ones that i will not post. there were notes that i wrote to emily. this one was definitely passed back and forth at an assembly, and it looks like i used it to blot my lipstick too.
me: there are gobs of men waiting for you.
em: more like gobbly men waiting for me.
me: you mean men waiting to eat you? i cant wait! for both of us.
dont you love the sisterly encouragement?

i also found a contract of sorts: to whom it may concern, emily and i, stephanie, hereby swear that we will never, even under severe temptation, look at one another's documents that we have stored away in our files. it is an oath we will keep until we agree to let the other look, or 'til the day we die.
this we signed and dated.
im dying to know what was in my file.

i cant help but think its good to look back, to read thoughts that i forgot i had and to realize that life even then, wasnt all too great. it might cure me of this unnecessary nostalgia, while at the same time, create a willingness to move forward. movement that i havent welcomed for a long while.