I was going to post photos and videos of pictures of ex-lovers and their disposal, with no commentary, but for 75 points, I felt like I should do more.

So here are some things that remind me of the women I've fallen in love with, in digital form, followed by the disposal of the original. I don't have a very good sense of my own history, so I sometimes look to these things to remind me of where I've been.

Eliza

This is the only photograph I have of my first girlfriend. We dated for over two years, which was at least a year too long.


It is not at all typical for her. It says a lot about how I prefer to remember her that I chose this one to keep. I learned to be a lot more choosy about who I date in the future, not to cling to a relationship that needs to die, and to never get involved long distance.

Amie

I have three photos of Amie, my second girlfriend, taken in her dorm room the summer after we met.



We got along really well but weren't good for each other in a relationship. I've always admired and respected her. She's married now, living very far away, and I haven't kept up at all. I still love her and her younger brother and miss them both.

Eli

I dated Eli for a year and a half. Sometimes we'd spend a whole night combing through vast amounts of words and phrases she clipped from magazines and combine them with words and images we could find in a vast collection of more magazines that she had collected for the purposes of such work.

The left is the front and the right is the back. You can see the result of collaborating with a cat in this one.

The card above and the one on the left below are both trading card size. Eli and her friend from high school would give each other trading cards they'd made for each other. I made some of my own, but kept them for myself.



Eli had several trading cards with backgrounds she had pre-painted, waiting for her to add something to them. I selected the orange and yellow card background for the card on the left, and added text from a handout on vagueness from a seminar I was sitting in on. The characters in on the card are little doodles I made while struggling to maintain my concentration for a three hour seminar.

I don't talk to Eli much anymore. The last time I talked with her she seemed to want to talk with me, but I have a hard time keeping up contact with people when I feel like it's always me initiating.

Heather

These are the invitation to a wedding between two good friends from my undergrad years, Dave and Jen. They live in Atlanta now, have one child, and I miss them. I was not only invited to their wedding, but I was a part of it. I was the jester.



About a year before that wedding, I had an intense month and a half long relationship with Heather. Then she went to a tiny island off the coast of Africa, the easternmost part of the European Union, to teach English to grade schoolers. She came back that summer, a few months before the wedding.

We talked about dating again when she got back. She wanted to give it a try, but before she got back her own anxiety had gutted that idea. I had invited her to this wedding, but she did not attend. I brought my roommate with me instead.

Aurora

This was by far the hardest of these artifacts to dispose of in more than one way. It's a Christmas card from a grad school colleague, Julia. It's got textured elements on the front. The writing in the inside and on the envelope is so neat and precise that you might mistake it for a font. The card itself is a rectangle that folds over into a near perfect square. It also refused to keep burning, and had to be lit again and again.



Aurora and I had only just started dating a few weeks ago. Julia and I had spent the whole quarter flirting with each other but not doing anything beyond that, for my part because she had a boyfriend. Julia made Christmas cards for a bunch of her friends, including me and Aurora.

Aurora left to visit her family in Washington for several weeks, while Julia and I had planned a road trip to visit our parents. Before leaving Aurora and I had decided we were a couple. It went something like this;

Me: At this point I think it's pretty absurd for me not to tell people you're my girlfriend.
Her: Then it's only reasonable for me to call you my boyfriend.

But we hadn't agreed not to see other people. We talked about it and left the possibility open, with the caveat that we'd talk about it again before we did anything.

So Julia and I go on this road trip. The last night in my parent's house, before we're going to drive back to Chicago, we make out. I did not talk to Aurora about this beforehand. As far as I remember, it was the only time I've cheated.

I called her a few days later and told her. She took it well, and we still dated quite seriously (and exclusively) for about six more months after that. She was still friends with Julia even. When it finally ended, it was because she wanted to have a family, and I do not.

Of all the people with their name in headers in this Proof, Aurora finds her way into my thoughts and dreams the most.

Hellingly Hall

This section removed by request of the subject. My sincerest apologies for any harm caused.

TL;DR

I see us all as lonely fires that have burned alive as long as we remember. Like all sacrificial virgins, we all burn in different ways.