The hallway is lined with bags of clothing I am giving away. Sweatshirts I've lived in and jeans soft in all the best places. Faded and worn and well loved. Washed one last time, folded up, stacked and bagged. A love affair to remember. Sweaters that don't hug as tightly as they once did and skirts that have grown tired of my body. Dresses shrunk to my size but with straps that slip off my shoulders and hems that hit too high, too low. I am their afterthought - a halfhearted second chance.
I have been holding on too long.
I tell her I don't want to throw away what I have. What if, what if, what if... this is the best I'll ever have? She says to ask myself: "Do they enrich my life?" And reminds me that my old and tired and misfit could be someone else's lifeline. Someone else's everything. I think of those I can't love anymore and those I never loved enough. And second chances. For all of us. If I let go...
I pack them up and bid them farewell.
