I hold on to everything. I take screenshots of everything for instance, sometimes even at different times and keep both photos — one is when it happened, the other one is when it was 1 day ago but she was online. I love the photos to bits and feel as if when I erase them they stop existing. I do not throw away receipts of meals I ate for the first time. I have the dress I wore on my first date with my first love and never worn it since. I think I see that all things end, and don’t want them to for as long as I can implement on my own. I think I like the permanence. The comfort that even in their conclusion, I have with me these things that won’t change as long as I have them.

But when I inspected further, my difficulty in letting go isn’t confined to anchored material things. Recently, my gaming friend has decided to quit. Of course for the immediate hours I went through internalized borderline rage, and then deep contemplation after. I didn’t want to let go of the game routine. He and I would be friends outside the game, but it is not the same as logging in and doing a routine like collecting daily rewards together. This is my new big thing. I’m depressed because we won’t do intel together anymore. When my favorite person could no longer get up in the morning to work out with me, I cried for days. Even though I spent every moment with her anyways, just not working out. There’s the constant fear that convinces me that change means abandonment or leads to it. And I am struggling. I’m struggling so much.