My past is like a dirty window. On the dawning of every new day, I must wipe it clean to remove the staining memories of what has happened to me. It's a ritual I perform so that I may move forward.
Sometimes, though, I run out of Windex, and I'm not able to clean it as well as I wish. The dirt that remains smeared across the glass haunts me. It paralyzes me. The miserable memory that comes with the dirty foregoing plays within me, overtaken head, causing me to relive the pain over and over and over again.
My advice? Stock up on Windex, or form the ability to gratefully forget what has been done to you, and the petty mistakes you have made, so that your soul may become uplifted and free.
Don't tie yourself to your windowsill.
(And always remember to buy Windex in bulk.)