The Cleanup

And now it was the turn of her study room after her room's closet. She was cleaning up her study to determine which items she wanted to discard before moving out. She picked up one paper at a time from pile one and skimmed through its contents and then put them in the second or third pile depending on whether she wanted to keep it or discard it. She held the next paper in the pile, unfolded it and began reading "hmmm so the reply...". Immediately she froze adjusting her eyes to stare into the empty corner of the study. The paper had curved corners and the ink along the folds of the paper had almost washed off with time as well as multiple acts of folding and unfolding the paper. 2 long years and she still decided on continuing to read the reply. It was a two-page long reply that was never sent to the person it was written for. She had no trouble reading the washed off parts of the paper. With tears in her eyes as she read the last line of the letter, "Thanks for being there whenever you were", among other things she tried to think if things would have been any different had she sent the email. May be the agony of being in nowhere would have reduced for her for a couple of months and may be the recipient's agony of knowing the truth so bluntly would have increased for the same amount of time. She was amazed at how untrained and reminiscent her heart had been even now, after it had got a lot more love in the past two years and had loved too. Anyway, there was no point thinking about the right and the wrongs now, when life for her had taken a very peaceful and calm road. She folded the paper back again like it had not been touched in the near past and put it on top of the third pile and continued her chore of picking up the next paper from pile one and skimming through it. A short pause from reading and her glare returned to the empty corner of her present study room once again. While her right hand held the paper she was reading her left hand sneaked to the top of the third pile and slyly shifted the top of stack to the second pile. A deep sigh and the eyes got back to reading the paper in the right hand...

No wonder numerous move outs and move ins and ups and downs have not snatched the heart's ability to reminisce...