It shouldn't bother me, but it does. It was just a little freckle, but it was part of me for so long, and I just cut it out. It was just an innocent little freckle, and now it's gone.
I have such a hard time with losing things. A part of me grieves over them for years. The jelly shoe I lost in a lake, the little stuffed baby panda, my childhood rocking chair, I think of them every now and then and regret their absence. Part of the problem is that I anthropomorphize everything. I imagine that all these things are somewhere, feeling sad. Now I have one more thing to regret the loss of.
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