that was on the back of a card I just found. It was a card I sent to my ex-partner. It must have been about three years ago because we have been separated for nearly that long. The strange thing is that I have it and she doesn’t. When she left our home she refused to take things that reminded her of me, so she bought everything new and stored it in this house until her new home was ready. Rather bizarre really, because then all her new things were first in the same house as me. Mmmm. I digress ...
Anyway, back to the card, well it’s cards really because I found two of them. I had just finished a book and had gone back to my bookshelves to choose a new one to read. As I lovingly caressed the spines of the different volumes my fingers touched something unfamiliar. I reached further and pulled these two cards from the back of the books. One had been torn in two, but it was still stored there. I couldn’t remember putting them there.
When I re-read them I felt the same as I have felt in the last few years. Absolutely no regret about my decision. This time I only felt deep sadness that I wrote those words in the card and that it didn't work out as, both of us at one stage, had truly hoped. I know that as time progressed with each occasion that I bought a card for her I had greater trouble because they never really expressed what I wanted to say. I know that I did feel a great connection with her for some time and in all honesty I tried to express it on anniversaries and birthdays. Now it seems like a dream and it feels that somebody else could have written those words. But I know my own handwriting. It was me. It was me, then. Doing the very best I could. And I am proud of that.
My emotional journey has progressed a lot in the last few years. Like an endurance athlete I am now fitter, stronger, more assured and I have greater determination and focus to achieve my goals.
I looked at the cards for a long while.
Now, when I read the extra things that I wrote inside the card I am trying hard to remember if I can remember feeling the emotions I expressed. Does that sound sad? Does it sound wrong? I feel that it shouldn’t be like this but at the same time I know it is. However it sounds I know that I am now in the right place, with the right focus and that alone makes me happy. I have a freedom to express myself without the censure of constant disapproval. I have my freedom. It is good.
So, my conclusion on this day that I have uncovering these mementoes is that they have been a reminder that being in touch with my true self is absolutely essential. I’m now off to shred them.