Quandary

A little background: I finished college a while back, and I've been sort of hopping between jobs because of this miserable economy. I decided a couple weeks ago that I am (for sure, finally, definitely doing it) moving to New York City this coming summer to make my dreams come true. Life isn't going to hand me my wildest dreams on a platter, so I've got to make it happen myself. Terrifying and exciting at the same time. Now, I'm under no delusions of grandeur here - I know New York is going to be loud and dirty and cramped. So, with that in mind, I have been cleaning out my room - throwing stuff away, donating, and deciding which things to put into storage (read: the closet in my parents' spare bedroom).

Here's where the quandary comes in: When things went sour with The Ex - yes, there is a "The Ex" - I got rid of everything that reminded me of him, except for a small stuffed animal that he gave me at the beginning-ish of our relationship. I couldn't bear to throw it away (or donate it or stab and burn it) so I wrapped it up in a Gap bag and shoved it in the back of my closet. Now: what on EARTH to do with it now? I don't think I could ever throw it away, as it reminds me of the good times when I took it everywhere with me; I can't ever display it, as I'm having a panic attack just thinking of ever touching it again.

Mind you, I'm over him. He's not in my life anymore, I have no idea what he's up to (other than what my friends tell me because they inexplicably think I want to know)... But I have no idea. Maybe I'll just keep it at my parents' house... But part of me wants it close to me always. Maybe I just like to torture myself.