One French fry. Why is it so hard to let go?
I know why. Because it's not just a fry. It's carries centuries worth of memories in it, a lot not good memories. You may wonder how I cope. I don't.
I seal myself off, seal myself from other people, seal myself off from me. When I opened up, all it did was cause trouble, hurt, and pain. So you don't face it.
It creeps behind you, yes, like a shadow that won't leave, but you don't face it. But today, I'm looking my shadow in the eye, and making it leave.
I'm at the lake today, the lake I went to so many times with Bonnie. And in my hand, I hold a French fry that has existed for a thousand years. I think the fries were magic or some shit, because it's not even the slightest bit moldy. I'd carried it around with me since the thing happened. It's the only fry that wasn't consumed by my father. I keep carrying it with me, to whatever new place I go, and I don't know why. But now it will be gone, forever.
It doesn't mean I'm making the past disappear, but I'm facing it and moving on with my life. In no way is this trying to make my relationship with my dad disappear, our bond has gotten so much stronger since Finn reunited us. But I'm trying to get rid of some of the bad stuff.
So, I pull my arm back, and throw the fry into the lake. I guess that's big, symbolically or whatever. And I know one fry gone isn't going to fix everything. But it helps. It means letting go.
And for once, I think I've finally let go.