There’s an old toothbrush in my bathroom. It should’ve been thrown out months ago, a long time ago, but yet it still adorns my sink. I have too many new toothbrushes and none of them have been taken out of their packaging.
I’m waiting for the “right” day the “right” time, but really there is no “right” time. I’m waiting for a day that won’t come, to do the inevitable.
It’s just a cheap old toothbrush brought along from Germany. It’s a drugstore toothbrush I can’t get myself to throw away. It’s a reminder of a different life, a better life, a different me.
I hold on to these tokens of a different life. They’re my lifeline, my sanity, in a time when my mind slowly unravels. I grab on ferrociously to these reminders of who I once was, of what I once did, and where I once lived and what I once felt.
Silly as it may be, that tooth brush is very hard to let go. Everyday I tell myself I’ll throw it away, and everyday I think, “Tomorrow I’ll do it, just one more day”.
How desperate do you have to be for a toothbrush to mean that much? That toothbrush holds so many memories, so much happiness, and sorrow. It’s just a thing like any other thing, but somehow I attached my memories to it like a photo on a wall and a video in a phone.
It helps me recall a happier and more fulfilling time. I changed when I moved back to the USA, and I don’t think I’m quite myself anymore. That toothbrush reminds me who I am.
I guess that’s how lonely I am. That’s how unloved I feel. I guess that’s how unhappy I am. My memories, my happiness, my goals, my personality they’ve been imprinted on a plain old toothbrush that’s past it’s expiration date.
I guess I can count on the toothbrush to stick around as long as I want it around. Unlike people, the toothbrush is just an object, a painting, that evokes emotions in me that I don’t want to forget.
So, that’s my post for day.
I have an old toothbrush past it’s expiration date. It’s a special ordinary toothbrush that I can’t get myself to let go of. Why? Because I have issues and I’ve projected my happy memories on it in an effort to hold onto hope, to hold onto myself.
The ordinary turned extraordinary in my broken mind. My toothbrush.