Today I finally returned various things to my ex partner. Books, clothes, things that I didn’t feel it appropriate to hang on to or to throw away.
A relationship that lasted a year and a half. The things were packed in 15 minutes last weekend. Life, love, hopes summed up in a pile of boxes.
I dropped the various boxes off this morning, and received the obligatory boxes back in return – my clothes, my toiletries. Funny how a relationship can be summarised in the contents of those boxes.
I spent the day fighting my emotions. The thoughts, fears, feelings of loss that I put off since December all fighting to overwhelm me. When I saw her I immediately remembered why emotionally, intellectually, and physically I invested so much, thinking “this is the one”, hoping that I had finally found the person with whom I would share my life, my dreams, my aspirations.
I made a stupid, obvious business mistake today. Annoyingly, it was one I could and should have been prepared for, as well. In a meeting where it transpires I should have been fully focussed, I got reminiscing and thinking about what was and what could have been, and before I knew it, we’d stumbled into a blatant trap in the dialogue that was taking place. No real harm done, but a frustrating hiccup nevertheless, because I know better and I let myself get distracted. Mind you, in my defence, the meeting was maybe 100 metres from where my ex was probably working. Maybe my mistake was trying to end things and begin things on the same day.
Irony on irony. The developments of the last few weeks are going to change things dramatically, significantly. No “what if”, but … things would certainly have been different.
So as I sit surrounded by the boxes that clinically describe the end of the relationship, and as the tears that I’ve fought off all day finally arrive, I find I don’t have any wise insights or solemn words to offer. No sense of perspective here, or of closure, or finality. Just unhappiness and loss.