A letter to one who will likely never read these words.
Some were in frames and others were loose, but in boxes in my garage.
For just over two years now, not a single photo of us has adorned this house I rented after you ended our seven-year relationship. The one I thought would be my last.
***
Looking back, I never felt at home here.
Sure, it's nice and I was fortunate to find it. Not only that, but I had room for my youngest son to move in to find his footing.
Kona also loved it, especially the stairs where he likes to pitch his squeaky balls down the stairs and then catch them in his mouth after I toss them back.
But, now that I've rented a new space for just me and Kona, I started to place it all in perspective and feel alive again.
It feels like a new chapter is beginning.
***
My two-butt kitchen in the new space.
Oddly, it was a song I hadn't listened to in years that helped to me get to this place.
The Dance, by Garth Brooks, is about a guy (or girl) looking back on the the memory of a relationship -- aka, the dance.
These few lines from the first verse and the chorus resonated deeply:
"Lookin' back on the memory of The dance we shared beneath the stars above For a moment all the world was right How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye?
And now, I'm glad I didn't know The way it all would end, the way it all would go Our lives are better left to chance I could've missed the pain But I'd have had to miss the dance"
***
We danced for nearly seven years. All but six months were happy, and the final six were very sad - at least for me.
However, I feel much lighter two years down the road. I no longer carry the resentment and anger that weighed me down like an oversized anchor hanging around my neck.
I still mourn "the dance" somewhat, but it's fading that way things do when they transition from painful memories to simply memories.
Will I love again? I honestly have no answer to that question. Maybe...if someone knocks my heart off its shelf like you did.
Until that happens, I'm fine living solo with the fresh scent of a new chapter opening like the crisp pages of new hardback novel.
Here's to turning the page and enjoying what comes next.