Photo by Siora Photography on UnsplashA red envelope. Kept in a drawer for many, many years. I opened it. Inside, another cover, cardboard-coloured. I didn’t remember that. The plastic binding had darkened; the contents had not. I read the dates. I started reading. I closed it, as I had done so many years before. To protect myself. Then I opened it again. And I realised that no, I will never be ready. Not even many, many years from now. I read the last pages. I stayed there, listening to myself. How many years, still. How many questions. How many doubts. I looked at it and made it disappear forever. Regretting it an instant later.
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