Today I got rid of the dress.

I didn’t burn it. I didn’t rip it to shreds. I didn’t spit on it.

I simply tossed it aside with all the other withering pieces of fabric I decided to part with today.

Just as you tossed me aside time and time again.

With the disposal of this dress, I am cleansing myself from the unwavering control over me you’ve spoiled yourself with these past three years.

Three years. Three years of my life devoted to a boy who couldn’t spare me three minutes of his time.

When I throw out this dress, I am also throwing away your handprint that has stayed like a ghost on my shoulder all this time. I am throwing away all the faulty “I love you”s and broken claims of devotion.

I am throwing away that horrible time that was supposed to be the best day of my life. The day you instructed me to wear the dress so that you could take it off of me. The day, representative of so many others when I so easily let you control me because I thought you had a right to. I thought that’s what love meant.

I am throwing away the night we shared 3 years later. Once again you had requested that I wear the dress. But this time I didn’t give you the satisfaction.

And once more, you tossed me aside.

I am throwing away the dress that has been stationed in my closet for all these years. A dress that once represented beauty and hope, but later carried so many treacherous memories I couldn’t part with until now.

I am parting with the constant buzz of your voice in my head, just as my dress has remained a constant option in my closet.

I am parting with the bad dreams and the panic attacks.

I am parting with you.

So goodbye to the dress, goodbye to your disgusting rule over me, and goodbye to a closed chapter of my life.

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