There's a chipped coffee mug that I left hanging with the rest of it's set on the kitchen counter. It's really been awhile now.
I know I could hold it up high in the air and let it drop and see it shatter just to satisfy my guilt for even contemplating on disposing it. Maybe then I can ease myself into believing that it is indeed, time to let go. Or I could dump it in the bin, as simple as that. Wrapped or as is, why should it matter.
But for now, for some reason I'm letting it be. I wouldn't serve it to my guests, no that would be ghastly. But chipped or whole, it as if belongs there...still.
Perhaps the chipped mug hasn't harmed me that's why. It's flawed only itself. The set is still whole.
Maybe one day I will get rid of it. Before I forget it's chipped.
Before I forget it can hurt.