I had a blanket, for years it kept me warm.
A tear welled up as I walked to the garbage container.
The time had come to let it go.
It had no holes, no frayed seams.
By tossing it away I felt like I let go of some pain, sweat...and tears, anxiety, loneliness and doubt that I have slept under for so long.
No amount of washing could mask the funk it had absorbed. Literally and figuratively.
That, in introspection, is why the "comforter" was so hard to give up.
Necessary and symbolic.