“I’m not sure,” I said as I sat there in front of my trading cards. The best offer I had ever seen was sitting right in front of me, yet I just could not do it. Maybe it was because I felt I was ripping him off, or maybe it was the fact that I just couldn’t bear the idea of letting go of my precious cards. Cards that I had held so dear to myself, leaving my control and going out into the world unbridled. 

I have always been one to get emotionally attached, not to people, but to objects, places, and anything of the like. I always had trouble letting go and moving on. This was probably because of one thing: from an early age, I was taught that things do not just have monetary value, but emotional value, and for a reason that I cannot quite decipher, I took this emotional currency to be worth more than its monetary value. That somehow the memories that only I associated with the items are worth their weight in gold. But it is not that way for somebody else; all they see are their goals and what they stand to gain. In the end, it is always the same, just like with family members. People can feel sorry, and feel empathy, but they will never have understood the person as you have, or have had the same experiences with them, or have never even known them as you have. Ultimately, they do not have the same value to you as they do to someone else. 

I sort of have the same sentiment to this day. I do not know why. I understand that it is wrong, that it is nothing but a pointless charade, much like the things I hold near to my heart. But I cannot shake the objective feeling I get when giving away or selling or trading something that I am attached to, or saying a final goodbye to someone. Maybe it is all for nothing. Maybe I just need to move on. Maybe I need to just let go.