wasteful

they have always accused you of being too wasteful.

***

you peel the crust off your bread, scattering crumbs across the table, far and wide. next to you, you can see your father grimacing at the brown parts that lay discarded against the white porcelain of your plate. your bread looks much more tasteful to you.

you know that you should be grateful for your food. you are grateful. but some parts of your personality you can’t suppress, and this immense hatred of bread crust is one of them. if there was someone nearby who wanted it, you would give it away gladly. it is not something you want or like or need to keep. you would gladly give it away, if there was only a willing recipient.

***

wilting flower stems paint the rickety wooden table in ghastly green. a much prettier picture of flowers artfully arranged in a bouquet adorns the right corner of the table. you sigh in appreciation.

your customers sigh in appreciation as well, as one man peels off from the throng and fingers the flowers. his eyes flicker to the stems that you are sweeping off into a bag. ghastly greens, you think.

the man doesn’t think so. you can see the narrowed eyes, thoughts of “wastefulness” skipping across his thoughts. his fingers fall from the flowers. he gives you a half-smile before leaving, muttering something about protecting the planet and using even the ugly parts of the flower to preserve natural beauty. a woman after him buys the flowers.

you later dump the stems into the compost in the back of the store.

***

your friends, if you can call them such, talk too much. they are loud. obnoxious. shrill. you dislike their flirting, their tight dresses, and their sharp cutting words. you do like their loud happiness, but there is a time where too much is too much.

friends for three years, you feel immensely tired. it shouldn’t be this easy for you to bid them goodbye, walk away from them, and ignore all of their texts and calls in the next few days. you already feel freed. being around them was like fitting a square peg into a round hole. they were the square. you were the round hole. they weren’t the right fit for you, despite how they invited you to all their parties and tried their best to be a good friend.

you can already hear your sister wondering how you can’t keep friends and why you would drop them so quickly after three years of friendship just because you didn’t like their “loudness” for a moment. in reality, you already feel freed. you can breathe now. you don’t feel lonely. you feel… like reality has returned back to your delusional haze of parties, words, and noise.

***

in all your time of being wasteful, you’ve learned one thing that the people around you don’t seem to understand.

you should never be upset at discarding the parts you don’t need.

bread crusts, flower stems, friends… if, without them, your life becomes more meaningful and better, you didn’t need them in the first place.

they are not something to mourn over.

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