so says the straw hat

In your brother's old bedroom there was a hole in the wall or a giant faded painting or writing.  Something I never really saw and you explained it once but I can no longer hold the story in my hands. We watched Animal House late one night in your bedroom when you used to sleep upstairs. It wasn't the version you usually saw on TV. I think the boobs made you feel uncomfortable when I was sitting right next to you. I don't know how late it was when I left. We were in high school then. When I turned 19 I stubbed my toe really bad in Canada on my first ever drinking binge. I remember ice cubes. You bought me a ring. I don't know if I got sick or not but the next day I didn't want to eat anything at all. We were supposed to leave but I decided I wanted to stay. When you dropped me off at my house in Bothell I wouldn't let you kiss me goodbye. When you moved downstairs I showed up once, 4am, pouring rain. I had a habit of doing that to you. Showing up just when...

Some days the fact that I lost five years worth of photographs feels almost like a heart breaking. Sometimes like fog. Sometimes like nothing at all. This technology thing lacks permanence. I have nothing to hold. When I was 16, somebody took all of the CD's out of my car. I had just organized them by frequency-of-listening first, and alphabetically second. And in just a single night they were all gone. The thief had taken them from my own driveway. I was sad, but also never learned to care about CD's again. They suddenly became something that could not really be kept, were meant to be lost, held little value or worth. Almost like they treated me poorly so I got revenge by never looking their way again. Who knows.  But my photographs being gone. So many things from so many years that I will never have back. I can't find my trip to Costa Rica in 2005. Or my relationship with Ben. Or going to Australia. College. Paris. I better start making back ups. Some of my pi...