Wednesday, April 3, 2013

At the end of things

There are so many cliches about endings.

"When you finally let go of the past something better comes along."
"You can't start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one."
"You have to let go of the past to get to the futre."

And so on.

The problem with all of these sayings is they make it seem like things just end. Like, one second something is there, and then next it's gone. Of course, sometimes that's how it works. Take the last bite of food, and that sandwich is gone. When people die, they're physically gone. Watch a movie, and when it's over, you can watch it again, but that particular viewing is over.

But not everything is like that.

Some things end. And then...they don't really end. They drag out for years, leaving a wake of destruction in their path even after their expiration date.

For example, broken engagements.

My fiance left me, the day after I bought my wedding dress, over a year and a half ago. October 3rd, 2011 was the day something officially ended.

But then we had to work out finances. And moving his stuff out. And we still work together. And I had to deal with the dress, and the decorations, and the ring, and, the constant reminder, the magazines.

The work thing is almost over, and the dress is probably lost for all time. The decorations have found a new home. Now it's just the ring (which is an expensive diamond reminder, but my love of shiny things sort of outweighs the hurt), and, until today, the magazines.

3 years of bridal magazines. From January to October 2011, their monthly arrival was a bright spot. A reminder that I was getting what I wanted, that I was marrying someone I loved, and that someone loved me enough to want to marry me.

And then the November 2011 issue came. And I didn't read it.
And I didn't read any of them after that.

Every month they would come, with annoying regularity, a reminder that I had been happy, then that I was happy but was happier outside of that toxic relationship, then, as time went on, as a reminder that I was now a 28 year old single woman with almost 50 bridal magazines taking up bookshelves.

So today I donated them to the local library.

And then sat in my car and cried for 20 minutes.

Because, besides the ring, they're it. The only evidence that at one point in my life, I was living that life. The life I don't have now. And even if I'm happier now (I am) it's still a definite end to something. A tangible end. But not, in any way, an emotional one.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Back from Europe

Well, I'm back. Poorer, skinnier (despite all of the pastries), and worn out, but happy. I had a great time, and a really productive, fun trip.

I'll give a London is amazing recap in a few days and talk a bit more about my intense dislike for Lisbon, but I'm too tired. School is killing me, my pets are insane, I'm getting a roommate who isn't, as far as I can tell, crazy, and boys are making me the craziest of them all. But I'm alive, and relatively well.