bound, and a little determined

As far back as I can remember, I've always found myself easily infatuated. Not with people (although it's happened), but with things, ideas, or projects. Today, my infatuation consists of finding a document I wrote years ago. It was one of those pieces you want to hang on to forever. I tried. I think I failed. I also just realized I begin too many sentences with the same word. My english teachers would scold me endlessly for that.
Back to my point. For the past couple hours, I have been frantically searching for two cd's the restoration company burned off of my hard drive after the fire. Before we moved from our rental house 6 months ago, I had the cd's. Today, I don't. My bedroom is a mess. Random items are on my bed, including a cooler, shelves, a pile of towels, books, drumsticks, a climbing rope, and a PUR waterfilter. But, no cd's.
Perhaps you've assumed my piece of writing I treasured so much was on one of those cd's. It was. And I've found myself infatuated with the idea that if I keep looking, they will show up. Perhaps I will find them tonight. I've just now realized that the only reason I'm infatuated with finding them, is that I'm terrified at the idea of losing my writing forever.
I've considered re-writing the essay, but I've since determined that task would be impossible. The essay would not be the same. Maybe it's gone for good. Maybe I should face reality and write something new. Maybe the cd's will show up somewhere down the road, and I will be as happy then as I am upset now. Maybe I should have written about something else tonight. Maybe I should have paid more attention during English class.