What Is Hidden Inside A Boot Box


I was engaged.

Now, I’m married.

He’s a wonderful man. I love him passionately. I’m so happy and blessed to have him in my life.

But there is something I’m hiding from him.

It’s a box. Just a cardboard box. It used to be home to a pair of well-heeled boots. Those boots have come, been worn, and are now long gone. But I still have that box.

That box is not empty.

It is full.

Full of letters from another man in a lifetime before I met my husband.

I loved him.

He loved me.

I wrote to him.

He wrote to me.

Then, one day he stopped writing.

I wrote to him.

I wrote to him.

I wrote to him and he did not write back.

I don’t know what happened.

Did he find someone new?

Was he married as well?

Was he still alive?

I still have those letters in my boot box. Letters on letterhead with his name printed across the top. Letters on scraps of notebook paper. Letters on tissue paper. On birthday cards. On thinking of you cards.

I still have them all.

And I am married.

I’ve read them all thousands of times, searching for memories, hunting for clues as to why he stopped writing.

I am married.

And the time has come.

I need to get rid of these letters, these precious mementos from another life, another love.

Should I show him?

No. I will burn them.

I will set those memories free.

And he will be gone.


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