Yesterday, I changed my mind. I decided I couldn’t think about you all the time. Every thought I have of you is like a stampede of elephants running across my chest. Every day I suffocate in the discontent. So, I pack your things one at a time. A broken necklace, your favorite wind chime and every word you’ve ever written me on any page. I’m having a clearance sale on my grief, and everything must go. I take the box full of you outside. The cutting wind settles my mind. The rain spits tiny pieces of itself onto me, providing me with a refreshing sense of clarity. And I let it wash you away, convinced this time that I won’t think of you all over again.

Today, I changed my mind. I decided I couldn’t live without our every memory running through my head. My zoo full of elephants would be barren without you. I suppose that I would rather suffocate in the mess than start something new. So, I venture back outside. Squinting my eyes against the softened reflection of the sun. I search amongst the overgrown grass, brushing aside the weeds with my bare hands. And there I found the box hidden amongst the plants, the memories of you still untouched. Possessively, I pull the box against my chest, securing it to me as I madly dash away. 

Tomorrow, I’ll change my mind. I’ll decide that I can’t think about you all the time.