Clutter

Before he left, the man I loved told me all my faults.  "I'm only trying to help you," he explained.  I put the things he said in an imaginary box and jammed it onto a high shelf.  At first it fell off a lot. 

Each time, I had to examine everything that spilled out before I could shut the lid and put it back. Months passed.  It almost never falls anymore.  When it does, a lot less stuff comes out.  Soon, I'm going to get rid of that box.  I could really use the shelf space.

---Kathleen Stoner

originally published in the Washington Post