It's Valentines; I Think I'll Write Something Emo and Jaded

Short Version: Blah blah Girl X; blah blah I'm dumb; blah blah if I'd have known the Grammy's were going to be on last night, I still would have gone to bed early.
I know this is going to make me sound even dumber than I have before (no one ever thinks it's possible, but I'm always able to prove people wrong), but a little while after meeting Girl X those so many years ago, I actually developed this belief she was "the one". I knew I was stuck in the friend zone at the time and it would be a long hard road out of it, but I had this crazy notion that in the end we'd be together. It would be an awesome story that would make for a great direct-to-DVD movie (admittedly with a little creative editing to put some ninjas and pirates in there). This whole train of insane thought has stuck with me up until a couple a months ago. And as I've said before, me getting over someone in a scenario like this doesn't just happen over night. With that in mind, let's just say the past week and a half or so hasn't been so great.
One of the things I did, believing she'd be the woman I'd one day spend the rest of my life with, was save all our email conversations. (I would've saved letters too, but it doesn't seem anyone writes those anymore). I liked to daydream that we'd one day go through a bunch of them and laugh and reminisce and all those shenanigans. Even at times when the (semi)realistic side of my brain was like "Dude, it's never going to happen. Just delete those emails and move on." I was able to rationalize with it that I should save the emails so that years later I could use the content of them for any stories I might write. So that email collection has been growing and growing for well over four years now. Until this morning.
I deleted all of them. If I can't bring myself to get rid of crap like that, then I'm only holding myself back. And as far as story ideas; A) I'm obviously not working on that dream of being a writer someday anyways, and B) Even if I were, I doubt I'd be running out of ideas for stories.
There's still a box of other sentimental crap in my storage unit I should probably get rid of too, but I'm not about to rush down there to do so. Hopefully by the time I finally get back down there, I won't have to muster all my willpower to force myself to do it either. Instead I'll just look at it is a box of junk to be tossed out.
And if I'm really lucky, I'll get some "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"-style amnesia and really move on.