Toothbrush

Just a little something I wrote a reallllyyy long time ago.....hope ya like :)




Your toothbrush is all that's left now.

Everything else has been taken down, packed away, thrown away, even sold......everything except your toothbrush.

At first it was your pictures that were the hardest. Pictures of us smiling and laughing together. Together. Each one has it's own special story that when I'd look at them, or even just catch a slight glance of them, I would automatically be taken back to one time or another. A time when we were happy and more importantly together. There was this one particular picture where your eyes looked like an emerald glistening in the sun. They looked magical and full of life. I loved your eyes.

If only pictures could freeze time as they froze quick moments where we all posed smiling.....that would really be somethin else. There wouldn't be any need for those smiles to leave our faces.....

So I thought your pictures would be the hardest to get rid of but turns out they weren't. I really enjoyed snuggling up in your huge sweatshirts that were literally 3 times too big for me. They made me "snug as a bug in a rug," right? Isn't that how you put it?? I packed those away in a big brown box labelled "salvation army." Your sweatshirts weren't the only articles of clothing to get packed away, it seems as though I had a whole closet full of your clothes. Well I did....not anymore though.

You must have mixed I dont know how many cds for me throughout the years. I loved every song, but listening to them only made me sad, so I sold them. Not for much....hell I would've given them away but my boss insisted she pay for them because she wanted to make them a gift for her boyfriend. It made me feel better to think that someone else might get a bit more "joy" out of them than I ever could again.

I threw away your record player. You loved that record player. I remember the day you brought it home brand new. We didn't have a single place to put it in our tiny apartment so you put it in the corner of our living room just sitting on the carpet. From that day on you tripped over it almost every single time you went up the stairs but you were dead set on leaving it in that corner because that's "where it looked the best PERIOD!" The day I realized you weren't coming back, I tripped over that record player. It was then I decided it needed to go. The garbagemen picked it up the next morning after it sat out in the rain all night long.

Nothing that is you is left here now, except your toothbrush. It still sits in the pink plastic toothbrush holder in my upstairs bathroom. You complained pink was too girly for that bathroom so I agreed to paint it a neutral greenish color as long as I could keep that pink holder.

If I get rid of your toothbrush now then I will be absolutely forced to admit the already apparent fact that you're really and truly never coming back. If I keep your toothbrush....there's a tiny glimmer of hope that one day you will use it again. Without that toothbrush sitting in my pink plastic holder, I'd get buried in my fears of never seeing you again even though the sane parts of me know I never will. Your toothbrush doesn't hold a specific memory of you that will cause me to drift into a reminiscent state, therefor I see no harm in holding on to it.

Maybe someday I'll toss it away, but until then.....your toothbrush will be all that's left now.