Furniture

(This is more of a blog post or a word vomit, than a fictional piece, but all the same it's published.)

There is a metaphor, that friends are like furniture. One day you'll move into a new apartment or house, and find your table doesn't fit the scheme of the house, it sticks out too much or maybe it's too bulky. Maybe the colors clash, or suddenly you prefer glass to wood. Maybe there isn't even a reason, you just no longer want that piece. You get rid of it. In the same way, after a year or five you have a friend and whatever close bond you two had, severs for some reason. Whether the bridges were burnt or you two grew away from one another. One might not have noticed, but you definitely did, and you didn't want to continue a friendship you knew was dying, a friendship past expired.
A metaphor like that, can be continued on and on forever, because there are near infinite amounts of things that can compare a friendship to furniture, no matter how attached you are to any piece, it just, stops. One day the functions of both just cease.
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