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Untitled 06.29.03
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Every pin that I’ve pulled out has caused pain that you cannot imagine. After being left stuck here for so long, they’ve become part of me. To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m removing them in the first place. I just got sick of all the things they try to make me hold on to. It was pathetic, like something so fundamentally simple would be able to hold up objects of such weight. The pins had started to rip the parts they were originally meant to hold. Every so often, a piece that I had forgotten about would lose its pin and I would have to tend to it. Examining the situation made it apparent that these wounds would never heal if I had to look upon them as often as I did. Sometimes you need to forget what the story behind the pain is.
Tonight, I took your pictures down. I didn’t tear them from the wall mind you; I just pulled the pins and let them drop to the floor. I sat on my bed and stared at the mess I created. I realized that my door was open, so I got up and pulled it to. I turned back to face the photos, not sure if what I did was right. I cried openly for the first time in a long while. During this time I realized that what I did was right. I knelt down and collected the collage, taking care to stack all of its components in an orderly manner. I put them in an envelope, which I then placed in my bookcase.
I’m not sure why, but I just thought you would have liked to known.
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