the bitter and the sweet.

I once knew a boy that listened very well or so I'd like to believe. Which is an extreme feat, considering the amount of talking i do. It must have been within the first few weeks of knowing "said-boy" that I expressed my deep love for handwritten letters. He smiled and I continued my rambling not thinking another thought of my fantasy of receiving a "love letter" in the mail. A few months later, I believe that day of the week was a Saturday, I opened my mail box and inside was an envelope addressed to yes, yours truly. This was not the classic "Love Letter" as i'd envisioned nearly all my life, but it was a letter that was written with love, and that was all that mattered. For one reason or another, this letter, out of every letter I've ever received, has been my favorite. The words were Sweet, and made me laugh. After reading it, i read it again. and again. and probably at least a hundred more times before I ever even set it down.
A significant amount of time has past since I tore open that sealed envelope. And due to a course of events that turned our lives in different directions, "said-boy" is no longer a part of the picture. However, I still have that letter folded neatly inside its envelope and i smile every time I see it. It lives in my forest green bag along with a few other treasures. My best friend, while digging through my bag searching for a piece of gum or a ball-point pen, has come across the letter several times. Every time she sees it she makes a funny face, and usually say's something along the lines of "why do you still have this?" I haven't really even known the answer myself until now.
Things didn't go as planed with the author of that little treasure. I never got another letter. and believe me, that was absolutely crushing after receiving the first one. There was a time when i thought I'd never be grateful for having to part way's and move on from that part of my life. Due to events i was hurt and not willing to look upon that "struggle" as a blessing. That letter got shoved in the bag to be ripped up and thrown in the air somewhere because i didn't know how to express the hurt inside any other way and because that seemed to be the only solution to my heart that was hurting at the time.
After a some time, and definite mending, I don't feel sad when I see that letter, which never got thrown away. There was a little part of me that couldn't let go. I always thought it was those cliche, naive feeling that were getting the best of me, but it was my heart, just proving to be a little wiser this time around. My heart that's now a little stronger, was telling me to wait. To wait, because time heals all wounds.
I think a little part of me has always known, that one day, I would look back and be grateful for every experience, be it good or bad. Because it is by experience that we become who we really are. I am the person I am today because i have the opportunity to experience life, and learn to love both the bitter and the sweet for what they are.
So the answer? "Why do you still have this?"I know the answer now. The reason I still have that letter folded neatly laying in my bag is because, that letter is a piece of me, a little part of who i am. Its one of the puzzle pieces that will eventually complete the picture my life is painting. Like every masterpiece, there are contrasting colors. Both light and dark, bitter and sweet. and they're making this life i live, complete.