So I found this and it is as topical now as it was more than a year ago:
Losing something, anything, is like losing a part of yourself. A small, kiss-sized part of yourself. It just flies off like the birds migrate in the winter. And trying to regain it is pointless because that piece is a living being and once it has left you it has died. Putting a dead thing back together is redundant and a waste of time.
I feel these lies falling from my lips and I try to stop them but they are so heavy with the weight of hours spent on the phone talking about our favorite lip gloss. Heavy from my guilt and all of the food we consumed while watching bad t.v. It saddens me, but it is dead.
So why even try?