Clutter Keeper

It’s official, I’m a sappy note-keeper. Whenever someone writes something nice to me, whether that be on a sticky note, or a torn piece of paper, I just can’t bring myself to get rid of it. I currently have three sticky notes at random places on my lap top from my roommate. I can probably find a handful of handwritten, silly letters from friends in the top drawer of my desk. I have a crayon drawing of my name sticking on the back of my desk chair. At home in my bedroom I have an inside joke present still from a girl who I don’t even speak to anymore. I physically cannot throw them away.
Even a year later when my mom goes through her annual “oh my god, this room is a disaster” phase and I once again find myself sifting through the reasonable clutter of my room, I find things from friends, I smile, I sit and re-read them, and then I panic. “What should I do with this!?” I think. I stand and start to walk towards the trash can, but I always stop. It’s like my legs suddenly become heavy as I think about the memories that come with that note, or that random drawing, and I just. can’t. do. it. So, it goes into a better spot; a spot safer from my mother’s anal gaze and there it stays with the rest of them. Don’t judge me.