“Leave your reasons on the bathroom sink”

i have a wild imagination that helps me look at life clearer, to see the bigger picture all at once. i used to picture that everyone was connected to me by a single red thread. one thread to every person, a thread that started out thin and either grew thick or stayed as thin as time goes by. now when you use an anchor to hold on to something, that anchor must be substantially strong as the weight gets heavier. when the anchor is not strong and when the weight pulls at the anchor till the anchor can take no more, the line breaks, and either the anchor falls to the ground or the weight falls away. so as the number of red threads grew, the more stretched out it felt. so then I pictured I had this big scissors, to cut away those threads that pulled too much that it hurt too much to hold on to. it was hard at first; how do you cut away something that’s grown on you, that’s an extension of who you are? but one can only take so much, and some threads had to be snipped away. snip snip snip, there goes the one who made you feel like belittled. snip snip snip, there goes the one who put you aside when he found someone new. snip snip snip, there goes the one who gave you too much to handle. snip snip snip, there goes the one whom ate at your insecurities.
but now for some reason, the threads have grown too thick or the scissors too blunt. no matter how hard you try to cut it, to fray it, there’s still that one stubborn fibre that just won’t let go.

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I have this wild imagination that helps me to look at life clearly, to see the bigger picture all at once. So I used to picture that everyone was connected to me by a single red thread – one thread to every person, a thread that started out thin and either grew thick or stayed as thin as time goes by.

Now picture this: when you use an anchor to hold on to something, that anchor must be substantially strong as the weight gets heavier. When the anchor is not strong and when the weight pulls at the anchor till the anchor can take no more, the line breaks, and either the anchor falls to the ground or the weight falls away.

Make sense?

So similarly, as the number of red threads grew, the more stretched out it felt. It got to the point when I then pictured I had this big scissors, to cut away those threads that pulled too much & it hurt too much to hold on to. It was hard at first; how do you cut away something that’s grown on you, that’s an extension of who you are right? But one can only take so much, and some threads had to be snipped away. Snip snip snip, there goes the one who made you feel belittled. Snip snip snip, there goes the one who put you aside when he found someone new. Snip snip snip, there goes the one who gave you too much to handle. Snip snip snip, there goes the one whom ate at your insecurities.

It was a vicious cycle, but I heeded the advice of someone to let go of relationships that were too toxic, no matter the consequences. As much as I hated doing it, I did it.

But now for some reason, the threads have grown too thick or maybe the scissors too blunt; no matter how hard you try to cut it, to fray it, there’s still that one stubborn fibre that just won’t let go.

That one fibre. That one annoying fibre that remains like the constant & stubborn reminder of your doubt and insecurities, teasing, like the ghost of what is left of your independence.

… or maybe it’s time I switched to using shears.

Enough of being pensive for tonight,

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