Just Two Minutes Ago

So my dad came into my room to ask if I wanted to keep a picture of me and him at my 1st grade birthday party. Sure, I could have said yes and put in my closet or back in the attic where I had thrown it before. But instead, I said no. I apologized for it, but honestly, I don't want to remember the time where I hated showering, picked my nose, cried over spilled drinks (which is exactly what went down at that costume party all over my pink dress), and believed what everyone said. I don't the damn picture because I don't want to reminisce on something I hated the first time. This, I'm sure is distastefully cheesy, but I'll spit it out anyways: if you look back, nostalgically, too often or too much then it's over. The part in time where you lived for the future shouldn't have to be remembered because one should always look forward. Well, at least try to.