Treasure Box

Tonight I pulled down this dusty box from the very highest shelf in my closet. I set it down, got all comfy in my bed, and slowly opened it up. My treasure box. I couldn't believe all the memories I had trapped in there, intentionally trying to keep them all locked up inside, not letting them out until I decided it was safe again. One of the notes I found in there actually instructed me to use the box as a place to keep my treasure... which I did. What I didn't do was realize how big a treasure I actually had before I locked it all away. Memory after memory came pouring out as I spent hundreds of minutes slowly and delicately peeling back time with each paper, photo, keepsake I uncovered. I sit here in awe at what I have so lovingly and preciously re-locked away, trying to figure out why I needed or wanted to lock it away in the first place. Something so valuable, so adored is meant to be cared for, cherished, loved. Aren't things like that supposed to get even better with time? But I suppose they can't, if they're locked up and tucked away, intentionally meant to be forgotten on a shelf until it's safe to pull them back out again.