a first (final) step?

While going through the flotsam of my room in an attempt to clean up, I came across a shoebox. It was similar to the one I had for Dave but this one was for Bill, my old highschool teacher.

I say was and not is because I made an active decision to get rid of it. After doing an internal consult, I found that the response wasn't a defiant "No!" but a tired and relieved "You can let it go now, it's ok." So I took all the stuff inside (papers, photos, notes of conversations), tore everything into small pieces and threw it all away. It was hard, letting go of something dear isn't easy, but it wasn't the gut-wrenching nightmare I had feared. Bill may not yet be completely gone from the dark and obsessive crevices in my mind (perhaps never will be), but getting the physical reminders/temptations out of sight can only help.