Yesterday, I went through the photos on my phone.
Specifically, I was looking for old sketches and artwork I had saved over the years working on the comic so that I could upload them to the site.
During the search, I found a series of photos I had taken last spring and summer, of flowers. So. Many. Flowers.
Dandelions popping up through cracks in sidewalks, landscaping at museums, the cherry blossoms in D.C., several from my mother's garden.
Seeing them stung at first. At the time, I'd been talking to someone I was interested in and it became a thing we did each day.
"Good morning!" (picture of a flower)
The writing was on the wall that it wouldn't work between us. It was nothing either of us did wrong, but it stung regardless.
I tossed out most of the things that reminded me of them in an effort to move on quicker. T-Shirts I got at a concert with them, little gifts they sent me.
Forgot to delete the photos, I guess. And I'm a bit glad I did.
Going through my phone, there were other things, too.
Photos of friends I hadn't talked to in years, and memes I had saved specifically to send to them.
Photos of places I'd lived that I probably won't ever see again.
None of these things are SAD, of course. Time works like that. Not all places and people are going to stick around.
But it is really interesting how these things all leave some sort of an imprint on you.
There are typing quirks I picked up from friends I haven't spoken to in years, but friends I've made since have picked up those same typing quirks from me.
When I encounter certain things, they remind me of those same friends and I momentarily think "They would find this funny!"
People I no longer remember the names of are directly responsible for large parts of my life. (Positive ones! Interests, career choices.)
Hell, the comic I'm making is because a friend I knew for a single year in high school encouraged me to sign up for an art community in 2011.
I still get the urge to take photos of flowers when I see particularly nice ones, but I don't have anyone to send them to for now.
I was sad about that at first, but I think being reminded to appreciate what might otherwise fade into the background is nice.
I think we're made of all the people we've ever known.