The photos of my ex-husband are not on my walls. Nor are they in albums on my shelves or in files on my computer. The pictures I have of him and the life we shared are contained safely within a sealed box that resides in my mother’s attic halfway across the country. I do not want to gaze upon them or interact with them in any way but nor do I want to dispose of them completely.
My ex’s place in my mind is similar to that of his pictures. He is there, but he is tucked securely away. He is not at the forefront of my thoughts. I do not want to gaze upon him or interact with him in any way but nor do I want to attempt to erase him completely.