Fang dusted off the box kept in the corner of the bedroom shelf.

The contents were for the sentimental trinkets and papers that she had collected over the years. With a freshly printed packet of photos in hand, she opened up the box only to be taken by the contents that lay within.

She sifted through the items. Movie tickets, older photos, cards, and other things like them. There was a lifetime within these cardboard walls. Years calling back to a different person. She was a girl then.

Momentarily, Fang set aside her task and chose to indulge for a moment. The woman picked up an album, opened up the pages, and found a spot where she focused on snapshots from the past. She recognized the old faces and the scenes in vivid detail. Familiar faces reminded her of the life she had had and the life she could have had. It was painful when faced with the almost palpable emptiness in the apartment besides herself.

But more than that she was reminded of the love that she continued to feel, as she thumbed the pictures. Her finger slid over the cheek of a certain woman. Warmth bloomed in her chest in spite of the heat that threatened to spill into her vision. The happiness she felt back then as well as the heartaches that could not be. Was it better to have loved than to have never loved at all? There was hope, too. A timid hope that things were better this way, at least for someone. Anyone.

The woman placed her new things inside the box and closed it. She sighed.