(In)Disposed

Deleting numbers from my phone.

Easier said than done, you’re not just deleting a sequence of seven numbers, but a person, memories; a piece of the past that made the present possible. You’re admitting that the person is unsalvageable, or at least that the possibility of any kind of healthy relationship is.

It’s actually an incredibly sad experience. Or at least it should be.

Everything is disposable these days. Including, maybe especially, people.

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