Day Twenty: Hide/Pack away photos & mementos.My friend, Jesse, has been helping me transport boxes of things from my ex-partner to my apartment, being an emotional support as I go through all the items (and the aftermath of all the things that it triggers), and helping me donate or move extra items to storage.
This weekend, I got in Jesse's car to go to lunch and saw a small, purple box in the back of his car. I had totally forgot about it. It is a box my ex-partner gave me a long time ago, with the intention to fill it with memories, mementos, and photos. It had filled up quickly and we had moved on to storing or displaying them in other ways. Something made me grab for the box. I saw Jesse sit a little straighter in his seat, no doubt preparing himself to be whatever support it was that I needed in that moment. Probably thinking to himself, "Oh, shit. Okay, I wasn't expecting today to go like this, but I got this. I'm ready. Okay. Let's do this." He was silent as he watched me open the purple box and start pulling out dozens of things from ex-partner. I read notes. I read love letters and cards that he had given me the first year or two of our relationship. I found a CD that I totally forgot he had made me. There were pictures from two different photo booth sessions. So many reminders of what had been--and what I thought was going to be my life. Jesse steadied himself as I turned to him after putting everything back in the box and putting the box back in the trunk of his car. "Hmmm. Weird. I feel okay. I feel fine--good, even," I said. And I meant it. I didn't feel triggered. I didn't feel sad or angry or anxious or depressed or numb. I didn't have the desire to ask my ex-partner and ex-friend a million questions about why and how and what. It just, was. I looked over at Jesse, who was smiling. I was happy sitting in that car with him on a Saturday afternoon, with a hungry tummy and the promise of good food and arcade games and sunshine. I know every day won't be like this. But more and more of my days are. For the first time in a long time, I'm feeling hopeful. I can think of the future without feeling dread. I can accept what has happened is shitty and I have been betrayed, but that doesn't mean everyone is going to break my heart or trust. I'm laughing more and talking less about the trauma...Thanks to doing the things on this list, and the people supporting me, and my family and friends, and my therapist, and my job, and Jesse. Before driving off, Jesse asked me if I still felt up to going out. He asked if he could help with anything or if I needed anything. I grabbed his hand. "Much better," I said with a smile. He smiled, too. With happiness, Farrah ♥
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