Opening Up

A girlfriend and I went to the Halloween parade last night. We actually had a very adult Halloween, starting with pasta and Valpolicella at Le Zie, before we hurtled ourselves into the masses of beasts out for Halloween. In the mad crush at the corner of 14th and 5th Avenue, in the sort of crowd that is packed like sardines and surges suddenly, I was pickpocketed. My Blackberry Tour and my Ipod were stolen. Ignoring the fact that combined these were worth $800, there was an enormous amount of sentimental value attached to both. The Ipod case had a picture of the Virgin Mary on it. More devastating, my Blackberry had an enormous amount of pictures saved. The most important of these were dozens of pictures that my former boyfriend and I had taken of ourselves to send to each other when he was an ocean away. They weren't dirty or salacious, but silly and sweet. Sometimes sleepy, sometimes sunburned, sometimes displaying new shoes...they were the sort of pictures you take when the other person is so totally involved with you that they really care what you ate for lunch. They were sweet, each picture a tiny love letter that showed in that moment we could barely stand to be away from each other. Like the relationship, the pictures are now gone. After an emotional weekend, where my future doesn't seem to be outrunning my past, I was so overwhelmed that I came home last night, sat down and wept. I cried, really sobbed and heaved for about 10 minutes. When will I dig myself out of this hole and move on?