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Rated: · Other · Romance/Love · #1660033
I collect and horde many objects, but does it really end there?
I'm a pack rat.  I get it mostly from my grandmother, she was the queen of collecting useless garbage.  She collected spoons, plates, knick-knacks, dolls, pictures, bottles and other sorts.  That's all perfectly normal, but then there were the collection of twist ties, old newspapers, old childrens clothes.  She had a room dedicated to the collection of shells and rocks she collected at the beach, and by 'collection' I mean she had more shells than the beach did.  They were all packed away in boxes and I don't think she ever looked at them ever again after she stashed them away.  And why did she keep them?  "Cause you never know," she'd always reply.

If keeping things was a sport, Grammy would be an Olympic gold medalist.  I'd be shadowed in comparison to her, but I'm fairly certain I can hold my own.  My main issue with throwing away anything is the memories attached.  I have so many things that are complete junk that should be tossed out, but with every rock, piece of glass, or plastic bag I've tucked away, there's a flood of nostalgia when I touch it.  My sister once said to me, "Memories are times that we borrow to spend when we get to tomorrow."  I'm not sure if she got it from a poem or some song lyrics, but it definitely hits the nail on the head for me.

My room in my house got flooded recently and it forced me to dig out all the boxes I've tucked away.  Unlike my grandmother, it was more than just rocks and seashells.  I had old pictures, birthday cards, games, school papers, notes, letters, really you name it and it was there.  I had to go through 9 boxes of crap I've collected, my father forcing me to throw things out that I didn't need.  In my mind, that meant I needed to find a new hiding place for my useless junk, but I did end up throwing some away.  Obviously the pictures that were glued together had to go.  There were a few power cords  and random wires I've packed away that I had no idea what they went to.  Broken Nintendo controllers I hadn't seen since 5th grade...I kept those.

It's hard to let go when you're a pack rat.  It's almost like an imaginary bank with all of our crap.  Subconciously, we think that the longer we keep something, the more interest it's gained.  Plus, with the memories attached to it, it could be priceless.  It makes me wonder if anyone on Antiques Roadshow would actually sell their junk after they find out it's worth thousands of dollars.  It's almost like justification to keep it.  Saying, "See?  See??  Everyone told me to throw away that beat up end table!  Now, look at me!  I'm gonna be rich...well, if I sell it."

I don't think being a pack rat applies just to material objects.  Letting go of friends, past relationships, the moments you live, it all applies.  I've had troubles with emotional attachments.  The people I let in close that are no longer in my life, it just hurts that they don't feel the same.  I often think why.  Was it something I did?  Where did they go and why did they not tell me?  I sometimes feel like I was thrown away by them and, being a pack rat, I don't understand how they could feel the need to do that.  The first and only true love of my life.  The best friend I ever had.  I don't see them anymore and it leave a pit in my stomach.  I didn't want to throw them away, I would've kept them forever.  But the feelings weren't the same and I never got the explaination why.
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