evidence of my former life

we had a yard sale this past saturday.  i’d been meaning to go thru some boxes but had been dreading it.  my hope chest and about 4 other boxes were full of stuff i hadn’t looked at since they were shipped from my ex.

ex husband.  ex home.  ex life.

i opened my hope chest, a gift from my nana, to see scarves i’d collected from all over the world.  then i see frames which i quickly looked at, and depending on the photo, i either smiled at or flipped over, removed the picture from the frame, ripped it up and put the frame in a bin for sale.

i saw several perfumed waxes from turkey, soapstone figurines from greece, and other treasures that i’d blocked out with all the bad that had visited me in the last 4 years.

i pulled on what i thought was a scarf, but it was my wedding veil, which quickly went into the trash bag so i wouldn’t have to see it anymore.  there were more pictures from my wedding.  people who were no longer my family.  i threw them out.  i don’t even feel bad about it.

there was a framed picture of my ex and me at our wedding.  i looked only long enough to see that he had crushed the glass and decided to send it to me anyway.  thank goodness the frame was there, and not me, to receive that dose of anger.

and that was the worst of it.  i packed the stuff up, threw it away.  cried just a bit.  and went to see vegas.

i realize that i’ve blocked a lot of good out with the bad.  but honestly, i think the bad outweighs the good and puts everything in its shadow.  i have a hard time compartmentalizing that time in my life, and it is easier for me to pretend it never happened than to acknowledge that there were small bits of happiness that occurred.

there are small things that remind me, i try not to think of them.  in a situation like this, i think it was better that i deal with it, so i don’t have to again.  that may be cowardice, but it’s working so far, and i don’t know what else to do.