It was difficult letting go


Greetings everyone 🙌

I'm a very big fan of buying clothes or gadgets anytime I travel out of my city to a bigger city where things are said to be way cheaper. Oftentimes, these things, especially the clothes, are fairly used, and after buying them, I lose interest in using them.

Some years ago, when I traveled to Lagos for the very first time, I bought a pair of Sneakers. It was very cheap compared to what we buy in my state, so I felt good after getting the shoe.

Getting home and trying to make use of the shoe, I found it very odd to my liking. I haven't really been a fan of Sneakers because of my style of dressing, which often goes well with leather shoes. I knew that before buying the sneakers, all I wanted was to adapt to the sneaker lifestyle, but my body couldn't carry on with the vibe. I found it hard to wear. So I kept it unused until an announcement was made in church for us to bring items we've not been using so they could be sent to orphanages and also to the needy in our midst. The announcement poked my heart, and it got me convinced to release the shoe, but then my very good instinct knocked off the idea with:

"Is this not what you just bought? Why did you buy it in the first place if you didn't have the intention to adapt to the sneaker lifestyle?"

My instinct went directly to the main reason why I bought the sneakers. I went back and brought out the sneakers; they appeared more fine and very tempting to let go.

"God will understand," I said to myself, and I decided to keep it for my own use. I didn't feel bad or like a sinner for not releasing the sneakers that part of my good heart had proposed to give out.

This is where I strongly believe that the dreams we have at night are mere hallucination of what we've been thinking all through the day. All through the nights of that week, I did have dreams of a reminder of gifting out the shoe, and whenever I wake up, I still feel head-bent not to give it out because I wanted to adapt to the sneaker lifestyle.

Weeks came and went, and I didn't give out the shoe. I was in church when the final announcement and collection of the donations were made, but I didn't give them....I still kept cool.

A weekend came—a weekend I had programmed to use the shoe to attend a wedding function. After dressing in my jeans and white Polo, I brought a pair of sneakers, wore them on my leg, and I appeared so odd. I looked closely in the mirror, and I saw how different I was.

"What's making me not look fine on this?" I kept asking myself while looking at every corner of myself through the mirror.

"This shoe is fine, na!" I said to myself as I picked up my phone and Google searched out photos of people wearing the same shoe, and they looked fine. I appeared the same as them, but I kept seeing myself as odd. I live alone, so there was no one to help me give a good rating on my shoe, and I couldn't wear it outside my room to avoid being laughed at.

That day, I pulled it out, put it in a nylon bag, wrapped it, and kept it on top of the table in order not to forget it when going to church next Sunday.

Oh yeah, I gave out the shoes to the church.

Thanks for reading.

This is my response to the #Kiss prompt for the week

Image used is mine

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