An unusual find.

I came across pictures today. Two. It was quite unexpected. I was cleaning out an old briefcase and found my date planner from a while back, and out of ide curiousity, I decided to thumb through it. Funny how a year can be summed up in a few sentences.

Anyway, I opened a zippered compartment and there was this folded up piece of paper in it. Curious, I pulled out the paper, opened it -- and there he was, staring back at me, an expression that had, at one time, meant quite a lot to me -- and I remembered why.

I used to carry these photos with me always. Funny how school-girlish a grown woman can be. I rarely looked at them, but I knew they were there, secrets that branded me as someone who was a bit more, and perhaps a bit less than she appeared.

I almost risked it all. I almost lost it all.

And in the end, when things were not at all what I had thought -- I was so thankful that when I stood upon that precipice and glanced down into the depths of change -- I turned my back and walked away.

Guilt is a burden that sometimes is best shouldered alone.

I walked down to the creek, these two photographs in hand. I looked at them one more time and began to tear them into tiny pieces, watching the pieces as they fell like snow upon the dark waters. Tiny fish flitted to the surface to study them, mesmerized as I had once been, before disappearing once again under the blanket of water.

I smiled as a pressure that I had not known existed, was lifted from my soul. Walking back to the house, I sought the comfort of my spouse's arms.