i couldn’t let go of anything.
People, places, events, photographs,
moments—even outcomes became objects of strong attachment.
Once let down,
I never fully recovered. I could never forget, and the break never mended.
Like a glass vase that you place on the edge of a table, once broken, the pieces never quite fit again.
I must also realize that nothing happens without a purpose.
Nothing. Not even broken hearts. Not...