Yesterday with Momma, we were looking through all of our plastic storage boxes that contained [mostly] my old clothes from high school and other winter apparel from my Appstate days. Without wanting to waste greater time and gas money driving around Burlington, I suggested that the best thing we could do was be productive if we got the storage unit sooner than intended. Yes, we are moving!
There were two big boxes in which practically all of its contents were kept on my behalf. Maybe two clothing items had been placed in a trashbag to give away from that box–an old Appstate RUF sweatshirt and a hoody. I kept finding pieces I had been looking for exclaiming, “Here is this shirt! I was wondering where it had been!” Cleaning can be pretty therapeutic because you will continuously find little treasures your mind had forgotten of–at least, it’s therapeutic to me.
I was reaching the last major pile of clothes from the larger box and that’s when I see it. I found his old white thermal shirt. The most I remember was him telling me how he used to sleep with it back in high school–so at least 15+ years ago. So, I knew this particular shirt had [and may continue to have] a huge significance to him and interestingly, he had set those feelings aside and given to it to me.
“That way you have something to sleep with that is mine,” he said time ago when we were long distance.
I am sure I am not the only girlfriend that has loved to sleep with her boyfriend’s shirts and wear his hoodies. The reason I was a little shocked of finding this shirt is because I had forgotten I even had it. After the break-up, I kept nothing. The same night we broke up, I had returned all of his shirts and sweatshirts. Apparently some guys are pretty tied with their clothes and I did not want his memory of me to be tainted by being that ex that had taken his clothes on purpose.
Laughing outloud as I took the shirt in my hands, I knew that I had to send it back. I looked at my Momma with these dazed eyes, both with some weird excitement and disbelief of finding it.
“I have to return this to him, like this week. I still even remember his parents’ address, which is weird. It’s only right that he have it back because I certaintly can’t keep it.”
Momma also laughed, maybe even thinking I’m a little crazy to want to do that rather than just tossing it. As I wrote on the note above, I think it’s only fair to return it to its rightful owner. If upon seeing it makes him feel angry, flooded with bad memories, or if he simply decided to wash it and store it out of sight, it’s his choice. Part of me giggled with the bit of excitement at what a surprise this will be to him because I intentionally did not even put a return address on the envelope. He will know who the package is from either by recongizing my handwriting or seeing the shirt, and for some added drama, I signed as “L.O.B.H” aka Little One Big Heart as he had me listed on his phone.
Truly, I have no bad intentions at sending it back to him. We haven’t spoken since the break-up and I don’t really feel like this is a reason for me to contact him. I can just send it his way and the rest is up to him. As childish as it even may seem, I find myself smiling at just writing this. The truth is that at this point in my life, I know that I am at a better place when it comes to him. His memory no longer hurts me and I barely remember the good and the bad days. When a good memory of him comes through my mind, I probably laugh because it was either him or the both of us being complete idiots, but then I let the thought go. Almost like meditation. The bad memories don’t pull my wounds open anymore, but I also let them come and go. Yea, they suck sometimes, but they have made me who I am today.
It may sound naive on my part, but I think the purpose of this shirt reappearing was just to show me that I am finally okay with him–his memory and the hurt he left. I just hope his little world has been able to transform into all that he hoped it would be.
I know my world is shaping up to be an entirely different one than we had ever dreamed of having together–and that, is very very good.