It fell today.

That mirror my mother put on the wall.

I need to learn to let go of material possessions but seeing the little box that was underneath the mirror splintered across my bedroom floor shattered bits of my heart too.

It honestly had no monetary value, incomparable to the mirror. It was a gift from someone whom I can't even recall. The shards and pieces I gathered into a pile together were more than just fragments of wood it felt like I was trying to hold on. But to what?

In the end I turned the mirror over and examined for damage. I didn't find any parts of the frame or mirror broken but I did find something in my reflection that was.

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