Clean Sweep

And so it begins. The excrutiating, liberating cleaning out of the closets, the drawers, the piles of Life that amassed in the last few years. My cuts are brutal, weighing attachment to that skirt against the precious space in my suitcase, the future that lies ahead. Here it is again, the chance to shed skin, renew, reinvent. What lies in that suitcase when it rolls onto the carousel will represent my life in the coming however-long, will be the paint on my blank canvas in whatever lies around the corner. Who do you want to be? This is the time to pick your person.

We are who we always were. I run off into brighter futures, always running, always forward, always believing the next turn will be better, will be an adventure worth whatever I leave behind. I don't look back to see what I lost in the race.

My heart is too frail, to know.