Hello? It’s me, your clutter. Listen, we need to talk.
It’s not like we really do much together anymore. I’ve been hanging out in the guest bedroom, and you haven’t been in there for ages. To be honest, I’ve been wondering if you’re trying to avoid me? Not gonna lie, I feel completely adrift. There’s no purpose, no meaning to my existence. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have a reason to go on.
The thing is, the Holidays are coming up and if history is any guide, I bet you want me to scoot under the bed again and into the back of that awful closet with the broken doors.
You know, I’m going to be real with you. I’m sick of that dance. The amount of dust under that bed! My allergies go crazy. And then the Holidays are over and I’m still stuck there, feeling like an idiot.
Let’s face it, I’m an embarrassment. You try to hide me, shoving me into old plastic bags and broken down boxes. I’m not even going to think about the plastic totes I endure. It’s obvious you’d rather ignore me than deal with me.
And yes, I know I’m partly to blame too. I’ve seen better days. I’m out of style. I’m dated. Maybe my sheer volume intimidates you?
It’s probably just best for both of us if I leave. Let me go to the thrift store already. Sure, it’ll be a little scary being dumped onto their enormous sorting tables, but soon I’ll be in a new home, with someone who loves me and wants me, who’ll use me and enjoy my presence. Someone who sees me for what I am instead of hanging onto me because of what they hoped I’d be.
Thanksgiving’s a little over a month away. You’re going to want to use the guest room. Just save us both the agony and send me on my way, why don’t you? I can’t walk out of here myself, so grab a box or a garbage bag (I don’t mind, I know it’s only temporary) and pack me up. What d’you say? It makes sense doesn’t it? You’ll be happy, I’ll be happy. Things will be different for both of us.