Letting Go

I had this poster hanging on the wall of my bedroom when I was twelve or so. The words, the backlit outline of the embracing couple, the blurry stretch of lights in the background. I find myself wondering what the sentiment expressed meant to a preteen me. At that point in my life I had already let go of so much so many times. Forced to move on from the familiar to the unknown one more time. To learn once again a new route to school, the names of friends, where it was safe to ride my bike. I let go of the poster sometime between moves. I expect it became tattered around the edges from being tacked up and pulled down so many times. Today I'm taking to heart these words that echo back from a lifetime ago. As I pack up another box of items to stow in the garage I contemplate the concept of yours and mine and how we can own things but never another person. I'm consciously letting go of someone who has become dearer to me than I ever could have imagined. He has returned to me once. And I'm hoping he comes back as many times as it takes for him to be mine. These things take time.