Long, slow, small goodbyes. Piece by piece your life deconstructed. Clothes washed of clean of your sweat and given to good causes, other items kept but the odour evaporates all the same. A long slow letting go - you loosen your grip on your pen, on your bicycle, on your garden which grows on without you regardless. Objects losing their voodoo potency, lawns going to seed, trees unpruned and so, so much bigger than you would believe now. You planted them, they bend in winds you cannot feel.
13 years on and the house I've known since childhood is being sold.
Time for more goodbyes. I wish I could take those trees with me. For some reason they give me comfort.
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