B to S (over a slice of greasy pizza):
"I think... I'm going to cry."
S and I were mid move and managed to take a break from packing to refuel. I convinced him to stop at the pizza place we ate at when we first moved to our neighborhood 2 years ago. I had a lot on my mind and decided to let him in.
It has come to my attention that the closing of chapters is an extremely efficient way of pushing me into an existential crisis. Nothing to be alarmed about, just a Saturday afternoon in my world, but not even a slice of pizza could jar me out of my funk so I knew this was big. It started with the selling of an old leather couch. We didn't have room for it at the new place and it had a tear that had gone without repair for years. It was time to say goodbye. Here's how it went: Some friends of the new owner come over to pick it up. They are a perfectly polite bunch and I notice that I am reminding myself of this while they are in my home to bury my guilt of judgment. It's a group of 3 men in wife beaters and they smell of cigarettes. They call me ma'am which I appreciate because I'm from the South and it makes me feel respected and at ease. I move out of their way so they can get to work and bring it down the stairs. I become flooded with thoughts of the history of this couch. My mind time warps to a Sunday morning in the house I grew up in. It's 2002. I can see my parents sitting on the couch quietly in their robes. They are reading newspapers with classical music on and sunshine floods the room. They are surrounded by art, smiling upon seeing me walk into the living room. The kind of smile that takes over your whole face. My heart feels full. I hear the front door slam behind me and it pulls me out of my reverie. The men take the couch to their truck. And I'm standing there shaken by the thought of this beautiful memory of my parents departing with it. I can feel a little poke at that tender hole in my heart. I think of how I'll never look at a piece of used furniture the same way again. And I hope that the new owners will read that couch a little bit of their favorite novel or play it some Bach before putting it to sleep.
Ready or not, life moves on. And sometimes that kind of hurts. You want to hold onto that last chapter for comfort as you move onto the next, but sometimes you can't do that. And it sucks. S looks at me as I share these reflections, his mouth full of cheese, not fully knowing what to say. He makes an attempt at comfort and I find myself feeling thankful that I have this man to join me as we walk into the unknown future.
And just like that, we're off to new exciting adventures... Here we go!