The Forbidden Chocolate

I had written this article on Tuesday, the only reason that I'm uploading it after four days is that I really wanted to take some excellent pictures. :)

This is unusual than my regular candid writings, for this one's a bit more serious topic than I intend to, but, with my usual playfulness. These thoughts have been floating and wandering in my mind for a bit too long than I admit to. I finally have a chance to pen them and to fix them permanently. My submission for @JonicaBradleyand @TengoLoTodo 's prompt #11, Labels.

In February 2020, my boyfriend had given me 5 pieces of Hershey's kisses for my birthday. We shared one, and I took back the remaining 4. One I ate the day we had our fight, one I ate the day he said it was not working. Someone stole one from the refrigerator when no one was looking. I still have a piece left. We broke up in July 2020, that one piece of Hershey's kisses is sitting in my refrigerator for over a year now and I still don't know what to do with that remaining piece.

I can't eat it, what would it mean if I ate it? I can't say that I don't dislike the guy, I do, he was disingenuous during the term of our relationship. I only have an ocean worth's contempt for him. But I can't throw it away either, it was a gift! More importantly, it was a gift from was my first relationship, my first everything. I have eaten so many chocolates in the past year, but I cannot reach my hand in the refrigerator to grab that piece of chocolate.

Sometimes, we unknowingly attach labels to things without realizing it.

I am agreeably a big-time hoarder. I have carefully saved handmade birthday cards and I keep restaurant bills from my dates too. But why? It's only a piece of paper showing my expense of that day. But wait, look at the date, it shows February; it was my birthday. It shows that we had a choco lava cake from Sbarro's that day. I had a mouthful of chocolate and he gently kissed me while I was looking away. "I'm stealing some of your chocolate", he said. That was a cute moment I do not intend to forget. Nope, this restaurant bill is not going anywhere, this stays.

What about all these clothes I bought just before the pandemic? I've grown out of them already, damn you pandemic and stores that keep snacks on sale! But they're new and untouched! The tags are still attached! Surely, if I lose this extra pandemic weight, I can fit into all of them. All I need is a strict diet and some time on the stationary bike. It's not that difficult, people lose weight all the time. I will start FROM TOMORROW.

But these are tangible things, what about...?

About a year ago someone was teasing me for not having watched 'The Office', he was pulling my leg. But to me, it felt that he took his banter too far. I found his dialogues rather unfunny and insulting. Even though it's been a year, I can't for the life of me watch that show now. It just reminds me of that awful person. Nope, I'm sure I wouldn't enjoy watching the show thinking about him.

I have carefully preserved all the arts and crafts that I made while in school. Though I wish my parents hadn't disposed of my books. I wonder how did they have the heart to do so. They kept only one. I have this nagging voice in my head that says, "Throw it away, it's all crap".

My handwriting looks cute though, aww, look at all the 'Very Good' remarks my teachers have passed on some of these assignments. I was an excellent student, my grades reflected well. It reminds me of the happier and simpler times too. As a student, I had that passion or fire in me. I always thought that if I did well in school, I'll be successful in life.

Now, as a grown-up, I failed some of my exams; I don't know if I'm that determined kid as I was before. I wish I could do better in my exams. Maybe the fire is just flickering? Or maybe I'm not focused? If I could do it then, maybe, just maybe, if I try a little harder, I can do it now too.

I took up rifle shooting as a part of extracurricular in my college. I have saved the pellets and used targets even after some eight or nine years!

I wonder if there's an unhealthy relationship between hoarding or saving items of nostalgia. It's a farrago of complex emotions. Am I getting attached to some receipts or old clothes? Maybe, or maybe not.

To get to the bottom of this, I consulted an old friend regarding it. She immediately sent me a picture of this little doll keychain I had given to her eight years ago!

Maybe, it's not as reprehensible as I thought it to be. You see, they're all symbolic. Old crafts and birthday cards mean different to different people.

To me, it's only a reflection of what I was and some good memories. They're articles that hold sentimental value and make me grin from time to time.

One man's trash is another man's treasure :)

Maybe, boots are just a pair of footwear. There's no point in attaching labels or giving meaning to her, even though it was the first pair of shoes I bought from my first earnings. It's ok to defenestrate her at once without giving her meaning if she's worn out. Throw her away, do it now! But why do I feel the guilt? I just used the pronouns 'she/her' while referring to the boots, maybe, just maybe, I'm not ready yet.