Redecorating

In my room, I had a bulletin board. It was this 4 by 8 foot white monstrosity that occupied the wall above one side of my bed for many years, since I was young. I broke parts of it in fits of rage. I drew on it, scribbled on it, put stickers on it, put all kinds of different things on it, used it well.
But no more.
Now, the bulletin board lies on the side porch of my house, broken into three large pieces and several smaller ones. In its place, nothing. A large swath of blue wall. A blank canvas.
The hundreds of star and planet stickers that were on the wall below it are gone; only a faint odor of the adhesive remover and a few small bits of adhesive remain as any evidence that they were there.
Someday soon, I'll buy a corkboard for stuff that I want to tack up, and hang it on the wall. For now though, the wall is blank but for a calendar and a small glow in the dark rainbow.
Why did I suddenly tear the board down? I had been thinking of redecorating for a time, but I hadn't gotten around to it. Today though, I was already cleaning, so I decided to just do it. For some reason, it was satisfying to put my foot against the middle of the board - a strip of wood ran along the top, for structural support - and push until I heard that satisfying crack of the board breaking in half. Maybe the board was a representation of "the old" for me, too. That board had been in my room for a long time - easily more than a decade - and I had gotten used to it. Maybe it's time for some "out with the old, in with the new." I was also tired of seeing the same old ugly white board every day. I wanted something new. I don't have anything new on the wall yet. For now, it is almost blank.
A story waiting to be written.