Broken Doll

I am always fascinated by pale faced, ghost like kids roaming around in nooks and corners of their house, dragging a broken doll behind them. Actually I have been there, as a kid. When my favorite doll broke, I used to drag it around the house trying to find a way to fix it even when I knew it was damaged beyond repair. I just couldn't let go. Even when it was all rags and the cotton stuffing was falling out from a hole which was once attached to its arm.

I have grown up but still, sometimes I find myself clinging to what is already gone and here I am, trying to make a future out of something from my past. I know it was a story which had already ended and things would never be the way they were but sometimes I just hopelessly wish that there was more to it. Maybe a way to fix things and have my happy ending. I have been dragging around this dead weight for quiet a while now and I have done everything in my will to fix it but this thing is damaged beyond repair. Too torn to be stitched back together and too far to be found again. 

I think it happens to all of us and we find ourselves holding on to something that is already gone and somehow I am moving in reverse. I am again that little girl, dragging the broken doll and trying to find a way to fix her best friend in the world. The one she could tuck in her bed while she slept and the one she could carry around but now there is no hope. 

But the truth is slapping my face with its harsh and cold hands pulling me back to the reality and telling me that I can't no more fix the things that are broken and that how ever I loved it, I have to let it go. I have to know that I cant make a future out of a thing from my past and I cant fix something that is broken beyond repair. So in spite of how much it hurts, I have to let go just like I threw that broken doll with a missing arm and a button in place an eye into the dumpster so many years ago.