Last night was quite a busy evening. I'm expecting the delivery of some brand new bedroom furniture. The old furniture was what Lovey left me when she cleaned the house out of everything. She had complained that the old furniture was just too big for her...even though she is the one who picked it out. So, for the last 13 years, I've been using this bed and finally decided I needed to make a change.
I purchased the bed before things with Chris intensified, and I have to say that the timing of this is rather fortuitous. I mean, the old bed has quite a history associated with it. That's where I learned who I really am and acted on my nature. It's where I felt my loneliest...and my most fulfilled.
Now I'm at the start of a brand new relationship...and I have a new bed to share. One that I have that contains no ghosts from the past.
The old set had two night stands. I have literally not touched the one that had been Lovey's until it came time for me to clear it out so that I could move the furniture out. While cleaning out her side, I found a number of her writings, including a seven page hand written journal entry from 2004.
It took me several days to gather up my courage to read it. After all, it had been sitting in that nightstand for 13 years...and apparently she had not missed it....
Of 7 pages, 1/4 of one page was entitled: "Things I Admire About Frank"...the remaining 6 and 3/4 pages were a stunning description of me. The person described is a stranger. Gosh if I believed that about me, I'd divorce me too. But it was written from a "Poor me" perspective...and "here is what that awful Frank did to me."
Even after all these years, it hurt. Clearly she wanted out of the marriage...but if she had only been honest about her feelings, we could have had a more amicable separation and divorce, instead of the one we had.
While recovering from the shock of reading about the Frank I do not know, Chris called. He could tell by my voice that something had happened...and I told him what I had done. After some thought he suggested I do something a bit ritualistic to destroy the entry. I decided to take it to my office. I sealed it into an envelope and on the outside I wrote in red, "Thanks for the memories.: and then dropped it down the sensitive document chute. There it will fall 6 floors, then shredded and burned. I wrote a brief rebuttal...then I thanked God for new beginnings. I signed and sealed the letter and dropped it down six floors.
It's now gone. But it reminds me of how much I have changed and how far I have come. I've also gotten a very sweet man that loves me regardless.
The journal is gone.
I'm ready to start anew.
1 comment:
Your life parallels mine somewhat. The notes to me are nasty text messages about how incredibly awful I am. Your bringing the note to your work sounded very therapeutic.
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