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"The Things We Leave Behind"

Juliette

Juliette

❤ Enchantress of Dark Elegance ✧ Flame of Desire ❤
Senior's
Posting Freak
When Rhea opened the old wooden box in the attic, dust rose like tiny ghosts of the past. Inside were small things she had almost forgotten.. things that, at the time, felt too ordinary to matter.

There was a bus ticket from her school days, faded and fragile, the numbers barely visible. She remembered clutching it nervously on the first day she traveled alone, staring out the window as the town rolled past.

Next to it lay a pen that had stopped mid-sentence in her diary. She recalled how the ink dried just as she was writing about her first heartbreak, leaving the story unfinished just like that love.

A photograph curled with age slipped out of a notebook. In it, she and her friends were laughing, eyes shining brighter than the sun. Some of those faces she still saw.. others had become just names in her memory.

She sat quietly, holding these little relics, realizing that life isn’t only carried forward by the things we keep, but also by the things we leave behind. They were not debris, not useless scraps of the past. They were whispers of who she once was, fragments that stitched together the person she had become.

And in that moment, Rhea smiled. Because sometimes, the things we leave behind are the ones that remind us most of how far we’ve come.

#journal #mood #aesthetic.jpeg
 
Juliette said:
When Rhea opened the old wooden box in the attic, dust rose like tiny ghosts of the past. Inside were small things she had almost forgotten.. things that, at the time, felt too ordinary to matter.

There was a bus ticket from her school days, faded and fragile, the numbers barely visible. She remembered clutching it nervously on the first day she traveled alone, staring out the window as the town rolled past.

Next to it lay a pen that had stopped mid-sentence in her diary. She recalled how the ink dried just as she was writing about her first heartbreak, leaving the story unfinished just like that love.

A photograph curled with age slipped out of a notebook. In it, she and her friends were laughing, eyes shining brighter than the sun. Some of those faces she still saw.. others had become just names in her memory.

She sat quietly, holding these little relics, realizing that life isn’t only carried forward by the things we keep, but also by the things we leave behind. They were not debris, not useless scraps of the past. They were whispers of who she once was, fragments that stitched together the person she had become.

And in that moment, Rhea smiled. Because sometimes, the things we leave behind are the ones that remind us most of how far we’ve come.

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Ithayirunno ormakaludey boosthakam ohh ohh :nerdy:
 
Juliette said:
When Rhea opened the old wooden box in the attic, dust rose like tiny ghosts of the past. Inside were small things she had almost forgotten.. things that, at the time, felt too ordinary to matter.

There was a bus ticket from her school days, faded and fragile, the numbers barely visible. She remembered clutching it nervously on the first day she traveled alone, staring out the window as the town rolled past.

Next to it lay a pen that had stopped mid-sentence in her diary. She recalled how the ink dried just as she was writing about her first heartbreak, leaving the story unfinished just like that love.

A photograph curled with age slipped out of a notebook. In it, she and her friends were laughing, eyes shining brighter than the sun. Some of those faces she still saw.. others had become just names in her memory.

She sat quietly, holding these little relics, realizing that life isn’t only carried forward by the things we keep, but also by the things we leave behind. They were not debris, not useless scraps of the past. They were whispers of who she once was, fragments that stitched together the person she had become.

And in that moment, Rhea smiled. Because sometimes, the things we leave behind are the ones that remind us most of how far we’ve come.

View attachment 366910
Click to expand...
I had once kept all the train tickets (mostly local and important travels) in a jar at home.

My sweet and caring poraaali threw it away into the blazing furnace thinking that it was junk :(
 
Juliette said:
When Rhea opened the old wooden box in the attic, dust rose like tiny ghosts of the past. Inside were small things she had almost forgotten.. things that, at the time, felt too ordinary to matter.

There was a bus ticket from her school days, faded and fragile, the numbers barely visible. She remembered clutching it nervously on the first day she traveled alone, staring out the window as the town rolled past.

Next to it lay a pen that had stopped mid-sentence in her diary. She recalled how the ink dried just as she was writing about her first heartbreak, leaving the story unfinished just like that love.

A photograph curled with age slipped out of a notebook. In it, she and her friends were laughing, eyes shining brighter than the sun. Some of those faces she still saw.. others had become just names in her memory.

She sat quietly, holding these little relics, realizing that life isn’t only carried forward by the things we keep, but also by the things we leave behind. They were not debris, not useless scraps of the past. They were whispers of who she once was, fragments that stitched together the person she had become.

And in that moment, Rhea smiled. Because sometimes, the things we leave behind are the ones that remind us most of how far we’ve come.

View attachment 366910
Click to expand...
Hello and good evening Ms. . As always very well written and expressed. Though it's always better to move on in life , yet sometimes holding onto little things as memories becomes a good reminder of the struggles , the hardships and also the good times one has experienced. I have held onto my priceless music collection of audio cassettes though no one even listens to those yet they remind me of my school and college days. My mom wanted to dispose them off but I was stern about storing them. I also have some old memorable stuff from my childhood days like photographs and stuff which always take me back to the era of pre-digitalization. I recall at times that after vacations the first thing I used to do is rush to the nearest photo shop to get the photographs developed and then wait excitedly for the results. Alas!!!!! gone are those days . Lovely post again Ms. . Cheers!!!!
 
Rasputin_M said:
Hello and good evening Ms. . As always very well written and expressed. Though it's always better to move on in life , yet sometimes holding onto little things as memories becomes a good reminder of the struggles , the hardships and also the good times one has experienced. I have held onto my priceless music collection of audio cassettes though no one even listens to those yet they remind me of my school and college days. My mom wanted to dispose them off but I was stern about storing them. I also have some old memorable stuff from my childhood days like photographs and stuff which always take me back to the era of pre-digitalization. I recall at times that after vacations the first thing I used to do is rush to the nearest photo shop to get the photographs developed and then wait excitedly for the results. Alas!!!!! gone are those days . Lovely post again Ms. . Cheers!!!!
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So beautifully expressed, these little keepsakes carry lifetimes of feelings, your cassette collection sounds truly priceless.✨
 
Makes me remember
Juliette said:
When Rhea opened the old wooden box in the attic, dust rose like tiny ghosts of the past. Inside were small things she had almost forgotten.. things that, at the time, felt too ordinary to matter.

There was a bus ticket from her school days, faded and fragile, the numbers barely visible. She remembered clutching it nervously on the first day she traveled alone, staring out the window as the town rolled past.

Next to it lay a pen that had stopped mid-sentence in her diary. She recalled how the ink dried just as she was writing about her first heartbreak, leaving the story unfinished just like that love.

A photograph curled with age slipped out of a notebook. In it, she and her friends were laughing, eyes shining brighter than the sun. Some of those faces she still saw.. others had become just names in her memory.

She sat quietly, holding these little relics, realizing that life isn’t only carried forward by the things we keep, but also by the things we leave behind. They were not debris, not useless scraps of the past. They were whispers of who she once was, fragments that stitched together the person she had become.

And in that moment, Rhea smiled. Because sometimes, the things we leave behind are the ones that remind us most of how far we’ve come.

View attachment 366910
Click to expand...
makes me remind that I once had a pencil box full of private bus tickets from childhood, i would play as conductor with it. Had to check my old boxes and drawers to do this again. There were gift which i never thanked or even opened and cards which i never replied .
 
Romeohhh said:
Makes me remember

makes me remind that I once had a pencil box full of private bus tickets from childhood, i would play as conductor with it. Had to check my old boxes and drawers to do this again. There were gift which i never thanked or even opened and cards which i never replied .
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Haha that’s so cute… like you had your own little KSRTC inside a pencil box.✨
 
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