Much like old habits, old feelings die hard.
If I could fill up a mason jar with my rejected emotions and send them to the ancient underwater ruins of some disappeared place so I could never feel them again, I would, never to be felt, heard, or envisioned again.
….Underwater where the flame could never re-ignite.
Maybe the jar would open, and the ancient ruins could absorb the feelings for me like an old house does that of its occupants.
“The ruins of himself! now worn away With age, yet still majestic in decay.” -Homer
They were beautiful feelings, even then and now.
Let them die, I pray.