This won’t be easy for me to write. With every new word spilled out on the page, another fond memory defies me to continue… but continue I must.
It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed our time together. I have. Even as I type this, I am fighting to resist your siren song of bar-code beeps and magnetic security systems, that modern symphony of commerce I have come to know so well.
I remember clearly when I first shopped in you, on the magical fall day so many years ago. You were more than I had been told to expect. I remember us being so happy.
But then, as time went on, cracks in that façade began to show. Soon, your shiny storefronts and brand-new wares no longer made me feel special. How could they? Everything you gave to me, you gave to every other girl. Remember when I brought home that funky blue hoodie? That day, I thought things had changed. But walking across campus later that week, I passed no less than three other girls in that same “unique” piece. I just can’t let my dreams be buried in my lingering affection for you. I am a true fashionista, and I know now that you will never really able to give me what I need. I cannot be your fashion victim any longer. It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry if I’ve mislead you into believing I could be happy with things as they are.
Please know that this is not about anyone else – you’ll always be the only mall in my heart (sorry Village, but surely you knew this all along). I just need some time without a mall to really figure out who I am. Maybe someday, years from now, we’ll find our way back to each other.
Until then, I’ll see you on the thrift side.
Love Always,
TC
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