Simone

I’ve spent the past few hours rummaging through one of my two dressers, sorting clothes. I am overly sentimental, which is clearest in my overprotection of material objects, specifically the things I wear. If I get rid of enough clothes, maybe I can force myself to change.

This all started because my friend went to college and had to design herself an entirely new room. And I realized that one day very soon, I will be doing the same. I won’t just be leaving my room, but my friends, and my school, and my town, and all the tickets for movies I’ve seen taped to my walls, and the box full of diaries containing the details of every hi jinx, and the mirror in which I eventually became secure in my exterior.

When this happens, all the story and heart and emotion I’ve poured into the unhurried curation of my bedroom, into the most truthful expression of my inner self will have been useless. To make that fact OK, I need to start ridding myself of the shirts and shoes I’ve neglected for years; mere burdensome tokens of the past. I need to free some space so I can move, and, I hope, move away. But to move away, I must part with my past gradually. I can do it, and I must. This will be healthy.

Although I suppose writing about this isn’t the best way to prove I can become less sentimental. ♦