The thing about the past is that it is like a book.You can choose to pick it up and read it - to travel back in time, and stay in between the margins of the past. Or you choose to leave it behind. To close the book, and keep it on your bookshelf as solely a reminder of all you once were. To look at it every once in a while, maybe even tempted to reach for it again, and know exactly that each past version of you is a part of who you are now. Woven into the strings of your heart and echoing in your soul.