Going along

I thought picking up the dress would be the finality of things. But returning his things carries a whole different kind of sting.

I couldn't bear to look at it when it was hanging in my wardrobe, but now I keep peeping through the doors hoping to find the bright orange suit jacket.

Things should just be things, and not stand for so many symbolic meanings. At least I wish I could look at it that way..

I am sappy. I am emotional. When I give myself to something I give my all. When my all isn't enough, the hardest part is picking up the pieces as I go along.

And with the help of you, you and you.. I am going along.