So let's say you decide to send 18 lbs of stuff to your ex two years after the breakup. What would you put in the box? Meaningful old letters? Forgotten favorite sweaters? Old books? Photos? That'd be nice of you.
But let's say instead you fill your 18 lb box to your former lover with old bills, hated sports bras, shoes that pinch, old college assignment sheets (and let's say your former lover graduated, oh, four years ago?). Maybe you'll throw in some random books and yes, a stack of prized photos.
Now, of that list, I get the photos. That's nice. But the ratty sweatshirts? The bridesmaid dress that went with the most horrible wedding ever, complete with the archetypical Bridezilla? Why? It's CLEARLY trash, but hey, why not go through the hassle of packing and sending a huge ass box of random crap?
I remain mystified.
If you did all of the above, you and The Ex would be great friends. Maybe you could even go bowling together and commiserate about your days in Crazyville. Feel free to kick it on the weekends but for the love of our lord above please don't breed. That's my singular, humble request.
Ach, lest you think I'm a bitter, bitter lady (I'm only mildly bitter, promise) let's fill the rest of this space with good things! Last night was my friend Jessica's birthday, a truly lovely lady. First we had cookies at our book group (the funny and utterly fierce eclectic Dykes) and then Thai food (Thai It, You'll Like It!) It's so funny to think how things have changed in the past two years. I remember being sick, being lonely. That real kind of loneliness that distorts things, makes intimacy seem scary and dark. Makes friends hard to find or see. I feel really lucky these days. Maybe it was all getting my Graves' stuff under control but I think it's more than that. I feel like my life is settling in comfortable ways, and comfort in the best sense of the term. That's exciting to me, you know? Lucky.
OH! And I've had a fire lit under me to get a tattoo. I'd like to go to this cool-looking local place, the artist seems like she does really beautiful work. I've had the idea of a snowflake rolling around in my brain for the last few years and I've finally decided where I'd like it - upper back, just under the nape. Here's the sort of snowflake I'm thinking about - the kind of that make me think of rose windows and mandalas:
Namaste, of course, remains unblocked, unseamed, and unloved.