Goodbye to an old shirt

I was struck this evening by how hard it can be to say goodbye to the old, the familiar: I caught my shoulder on a hook, and tore my shirt, a shirt I'd had for a third of my life: not an important or big part of my life, but it had a small amount of meaning: and now, caught on a hook, it's gone.  Just a little bit saddening.

Yours, just a little bit saddened,
N.