old things

It's my weekend without the girls (yes, I'm mentioning them again--some boundaries cannot be re-crossed I've found). Dropped the younger at my ex's place this morning. It was my first visit there and an odd experience--to see so many of our old things in an alien context, and also interspersed with new old things, boon and booty from the new s.o.'s life, their history unknown.
Old things are infused with old feelings, memories. Isn't that the meaning of sentimental value? But what of sentimental debt, in which the feelings are not wanted, are merely liabilities? How are those paid off and by whom? And how long does it take? All these unanswerables bundled up neatly in the discomfort of a single unnoticed twitch of the eye. Or am I flinching now?
Needless to say, I rushed through my farewells and skedaddled on out of there, back to my own alien space, my own old things.