Thoughts in the Laundry
I have been working the spot on this goddamn shirt for the last half hour. What happened to all those "miracle" detergents, the ones that promise to make everything new again? It is my favorite, and longest lasting shirt, the kind that gives you a smile when you take it out of the trunk at seasons change and is with you at those unique life times that appear so unexpectedly, messed up with life's sloppiness but somehow resurrecting itself with water, soap, and a spin cycle.
Sometimes though, you reach the point when things just can't be repaired with a quick rinse. Life fades things after too many washes. I really hate when things get ruined like that. So suddenly, like that relationship that started all fresh and clean, right out of the package new, survived for years, and now desperately clings to the edge like a novice high wire act; the dying connection that gifted me with this still bloody nose in what seems to be a fatal personhood crash.
You can work hard and try to save things, scrub them until the material is almost worn through, but sometimes you're better off learning when and how to let them go. Even a favorite shirt knows when it's time to stop going along for the ride and start a new life serving as a rag. A step down, yes, but still clinging to existence, remembering the times when friends said, "Is that new? It looks good on you!"
Sometimes it's best to know when the stain will no longer come out.
