Detachable

I was thinking today how much detaching I've had to do with things lately. Saying goodbye to my mole, getting rid of my belongings, cutting ties with people (which I have done a lot of this past year). I took 2 bags of clothing to a consignment store today. I cried after, as if I had just drove away from dropping off my beloved dog (but I'm allergic to dogs so..my beloved Camel) to a new home. Reminiscing about all the great memories with that dress etc... but out of all those things, the one thing that makes me so terribly sad, the sadness only a real broken heart could bring, my mole (I'm crying right now). The people falls in at a not surprisingly third.

Maybe you have to detach yourself in order to make room for new things to attach to. So, that I can slowly except and bond with the scar where my mole sat pretty, make new memories with the new dress and white jacket, etc...and appreciate the real friendships and greet new romances with open arms. Maybe life is one big attachment to detaching.