Set Fire to The Memories
I never saw it coming and I would never have guessed it would have happened the way it did. Shocked and in dismay, my heart stopped beating and shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.
The day he told me, he didn’t love me anymore.
My heart was in the palm of his hands and he crushed it into the tiniest pieces a heart can be broken into. I had to leave immediately, because I couldn’t hold back the tears. I left it all and just drove away.
Going back, to get my things, has brought back so many memories. Walking through that house and then to the closet, to get my clothing, felt as though I was tip toeing around, trying to miss all the land mines that would blow up in my mind.
I had to sit down and let the tears fall from my cheeks. Just looking at all those shirts, skirts, and dresses, hanging there just the way I left them, I knew instantly there’s no passion left in my heart to wear some of these ever again.
With each dress or shirt or even shoes, there’s a vividly real memory and grief is the only response. Sorrow for what could have been, and many tears fall for the loss of what once was.
There’s that beautiful blue party dress with the black lace trim around the edges. I remember the dress was itchy, but showed off my long, long legs. I never liked it much, but I knew the way I looked in it was like a shining star.
He had the biggest smile on his face when I came down the stairs ready to go to his brother’s wedding. The look in his eyes… It made me feel on top of the world, like I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
My favorite sneakers look so tattered and dirty now. They are the most comfortable shoes, but you would never know it looking at them. The soul on the right foot is so worn down that it looks as though it may fall off the rest of the shoe at any moment.
Worn out, tired, and ready to be thrown away…This is the way I felt that sad and distressing day. These shoes reminded me of that dreadful feeling of worthlessness.
The dried-on dirt all over this pair of shoes is from that one weekend last fall, when he helped me in the garden pulling weeds. That day was so fun. I remember that it ended with playfully throwing the straggly weeds at each other. Then he pulled me in for sweet romantic kisses.
Of course, there are those shiny silver sandals that I had on during our vacation to Mexico. I remember feeling the soft warm sand between my toes while holding his hand walking along the beach. Then there’s the swim suit I wore while we parasailed over that vast sparkling ocean.
And in the back of the closet, in a box, was the long romantically red maxi dress I wore on our first date and those platforms that made me trip and fall right into his arms.
Realizing all these clothes will continue to bring up all those wonderfully painful memories and only make me cry, I decided there was only one thing left to do. I gathered up all those memories and put them in a metal trash can, poured lighter fluid all over them.
I set the memories of love ablaze late that January day. I walked away with my head held high as the last tear fell from my eyes. Not looking back, I felt content letting go of the past.
By Emily Rose, 2016