Having to go through old boxes of high school memorabilia puts your life in perspective. I just moved from Florida to California recently and had to go through tons of old boxes—many of them from high school. The vast amount of crap that I had blew my mind. Everything from school assignments to notes passed in class to (gasp) emails that I had printed out and categorized by sender. If that doesn’t make you want to vomit office supplies, I don’t know what will.
One printed email that I came across actually made me awkwardly reminiscent. It was my first-ever breakup letter from the first girl I ever dated. That relationship lasted for nine months (which, in 8th grade, is not unlike being engaged). If you’d like to read the letter (you know you do), keep reading.