When you discard me, be sure to close the lid on the bin. Walk away. Don’t look back to reach in… I’ve already moved on.
This side of the road, I’ve been discarded here before… I know my way home by heart.
They call it muscle memory. And my heart always remembers. She never forgets.
So when you discard me, don’t retrace those steps looking for the place you put me out… I won’t be there.
My feet always find a path forward and stay their course. Sure, I’ll be sad, but not for long.
A good playlist always makes things better. Healing begins with the first note. And wine with chocolate can mend the worst wounds.
Please, don’t ping my phone to see if I’m still there waiting. I’m not. I much prefer the warmth of unconditional love — nothing fleeting and fake.
Once discarded, I won’t wait for you to change your mind or come around. I won’t beg for your return.
It’s simple: You weren’t meant for me.
So I’ll pray for your journey forward to be filled with peace and love… just not with me. Never again.
Discarded.
.
.
.
Image by Pixabay
