Irish Spring

Once in a while we get the urge to clean out closets or drawers or the fridge, we just collect junk and forget to pitch it out. Dairy products go bad, we gained weight and the clothes don't fit anymore, or we don't know why we bought this weird thing to begin with. And sometimes things are in plain sight, for some reason we don't want to believe that something is true despite all the evidence that points to the truth or otherwise. I found recently some nonsense green things that Mom tried to get me to wear on St. Patrick's Day years ago, in response I stuffed them in a box or a remote corner of the closet. Today I found them again, decided to give them a wash because it's been rotting in the closet (clean, doing nothing and not offending anyone), so I pitched them in the laundry basket for a near future run through the washing machine. Started thinking about other long term projects to do, one being that the shower needed a good scrub because the brunette shampoo I was using not too long ago had stained the white mortar (or whatever you call it) between the tiles.

In the shower I now have a month plus old bar of soap, Irish Spring, in the soap dish. I never use it, I use the fluffer thing with the liquid soap body washes like all women do. He left it here about a month ago or so because he used bar soap like men do. But I won't throw it out, it's all I have left. Once again, another love affair has come to an end, and I have one of those little tokens to remind me of it. No one ever asks about it, it's hidden well away in a place where only I see it. What's the point? I'm not sure. I think I should throw it out, because I will never use it. But I don't want to. Am I holding onto it for sentimental value? What sentimental value? It's over. Do I need something to remind me of him? Not really, I have no problem picturing him in my mind, I can determine the pitch and tone of his voice clearly. Am I depressed? Not really. Well, maybe a bit as no one likes being rejected or having their ego chipped away at (directly or indirectly). We have no contact as of this writing, if there will be again it will not be for a while because I am certainly not ready for that. Life goes on whether or not like like it, and I choose to be a participant and not a depressed viewer saying "Oh why me?", because then you have a whole lot of "why mes?" to pile up on you because of that. What will happen next? I don't know, but I can't part with that bar of soap right now even though I will never use it. It's all I have left.

Perhaps this is the root of hoarding behaviors. At last I have figured it out. So this day wasn't a complete waste to begin with, was it?

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