Time to say Goodbye

It's been a part of me for so long, that I find it hard 

to look back on times when I didn't have it. 

It's a simple little thing, made from plain black cloth,

 but it represents so much, stands for so much, 

hides so much.

There are so many things it does for me and I've had it for so long.

 That I find it difficult to part with it. After all, it's a glaring reminder

 of what was once there, what I can still see,

 what only I can see. 

It's a black piece of cloth wrapped around my left hand,

 hand made, version 1.2. The originals long since worn to death.

 I've had it with me since high school, started wearing it for the most obvious reason. At first it was a cry for help, over time it just became my little secret. My comfort, then gradually that changed as well. 

It became a reminder. A reminder of what I had gone through,

 what I had done to myself and what I overcame. 

And it's stayed that way for the longest time. 

How many years have I worn a glove on a daily basis? 

It's probably been about seven. 

That's a long time to wear a glove over your left hand. 

Sometimes it's a wonder why no one ever really asked questions,

 but I guess people wear shoes for years on end, so why not a glove?

 

Still versions 1.2 are slowly wearing away,

 just like the originals and instead of making new ones once more,

 I continue to wear them. 

Why?

 Because in my heart I know it's time to move on.

 I've had them for seven years, 

used them as a shield as comfort as protection, 

but I know it's finally time to let go and move on.

It's silly, tearing up over a glove, 

feeling uncomfortable taking it off 

and just sad to let it go, 

but it was so much. 

It means so much. 

As much as it saddens me, it's time to enter a new chapter in my life, 

whatever it may be. This needs to be without the constant reminder of my weakness, without the gaping wounds I put into myself, without the sadness and insecurity it brought forth. 

Seven years ago I first started my fight with depression, 

seven years ago I found an unhealthy alternative to combat that depression, seven years ago I gave in to my weakness. 

I'm stronger for that now. 

As much as I hate myself for what I once was, 

I can't move forward with my safety blanket 

still wrapped around my wrist. 

So it's time to let go. 

Hang up the old gals, thank them for their time and support, 

because they helped me combat my bad habits, 

let me overcome them. 

I'm dragging this on, 

pulling on as many words from my feeble little brain as possible,

 because I'm scared to let them go, even though I know it's time. 

I've known for a while now. 

So just before my anniversary of birth I want to say

 thank you and goodbye.

x

o

 x 

My Dear Black Glove,

Thank you for hiding my mistakes from the world.
Thank you for protecting me from my weakness and insecurities.
Thank you for reminding me of my sadness and giving me strength.
Thank you for helping me move forward in life.

I won't let you be my crutch anymore.
I won't have you suffer through my sad days anymore, as they have become far and in-between.
I won't blame you anymore.

I have to move forward now, 

without you on my hand, 

but it's going to be okay. 

Over time I'll stop seeing the faded scars.
Over time I'll get used to my bare left hand.
Over time I will learn to stop thinking of my past mistakes.

I'm different now. 

I've learned to find happiness in the smallest of things.
Learned that silence and loneliness is not bad.
I've learned that I love to write and evoke emotions in others.

So thank you once again for seven years. 

I will miss you terribly, but I hope we never 

have to meet again in the same circumstances.

Goodbye
Thank you once again

from the once lost and lonely soul,

that's still lost, 

but no longer lonely