Savannah Jaye

I keep telling myself: Savannah, only bring what you absolutely need to Florida.

The truth is, though, no matter how I rearrange my clothes,
Do I roll my jeans or fold them?
Should I leave some things on their hangers?
and no matter what frivolously purchased outfits I take out,
I mean, come on, am I really going to wear that sequin dress?
and no matter how long I just sit and stare at the pile of clothes,
(towering far higher than the suitcase in which they reside)
all of it will never fit.

And I want to blame it on the suitcase and tell it that it is too small,
that it has to make room for all of my baggage,
I still need to pack my yoga mat, bathing suits, and beach towels.
but maybe i’m just holding on to things that don’t need to be going with me.
maybe, no matter how badly i want them to,
they don’t need to have a place in my life anymore.

So next to my suitcase is a bag,
and in that bag is things that aren’t for me anymore:
pants that are now 4 sizes too big.
shirts that went out of season 3 years ago.
and clothes cheaply made that I was too stingy to get rid of long after they wore out.

So on this night, on the eve of the greatest adventure of my life, I’m trying to decide what everything’s proper place really is.

Is this a shirt that I keep wearing solely because of it’s comfort?
Or do I find it so difficult to let go of because of the sense of security and familiarity that it brings me?
Is it important to keep because of the memories and love that have become interwoven in each thread with countless wears?
Or do you toss it now due to the holes and a stain?
Can you fix the tears and take out the stain, and is it even worth it?
Will wearing this shirt keep me from wearing something else: something newer and more flattering?
Or is wearing this shirt as much a part of who I am as the birds on my shoulder and the mole on my cheek?