I started with the desk drawer
that held everything of this year’s
college adventures.
Receipts from late night snack breaks,
half-used stacks of post-its
and every abandoned writing utensil.
Items I once thought I’d need again
but never once gave a second thought to.
Those things weren’t hard to let go of.
But somewhere in between deciding
which clothes to donate
and which ones to put back,
I look to the ones that stayed
without question or begging.
These people didn’t need a reason
to stay. They just did.
Unlike the accumulation of cords
strategically hidden in my desk corner,
never was there a quiet debate
of whether these people should
stay or go.
No second-guessing. Just ease.
They were always chosen,
always for me.
Their names and faces
could never be misplaced.
They could fill a room
and it still wouldn’t feel cluttered,
but rather, full
and somehow brighter.
Amid the process of clearing space
for the new and the next,
I realized they were never
something to sort through.
No deliberation,
no piles,
no “I’ll come back to this later.”
They were just something I had
without ever needing to justify
their presence in my life.
Because clearing out the past
never meant losing
the people
who stayed through it.
