Before I head out to enjoy the festivities of the Matty J and Liz wedding, I finally have a moment in my new cube to post an entry regarding my move. It's a sidestep within the company to a different project. I had been promoted and demoted a few times, all of my own doing, primarily because I don't like dealing with the added responsibilities of the manager. I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; am an attendant lord, one that will do to swell a progress, start a scene or two. But I like this move because it puts me in a group that's tailored more to my strengths as a programmer, in the hopes that I can learn to overcome my weaknesses. These are good things.

In changing cubes, I managed to open a drawer I had kept shut for a long time. In it I kept mementos and icons of a different life and a different time. Here was a gift she gave me. Here was a photo we took together. Here is another photo of us at a company function. Here is a book she wanted me to read that I never took home. I fight the urge to throw away a lot of things, primarily because I love this moment.

This, this moment when I open a drawer and it breathes at me, it breathes a sigh of relief and exhaustion, the stale air of memory uncorked. We of that time are no longer the same. But the pictures and the books and the random stuff that pockmarked the timeline of two beings together on Earth sit quietly at the bottom of a drawer, only now to be unearthed, boxed, stuffed into the attic, and awaits a different day when memory can be stirred again.