Boxing away yesterday

There it was their whole story down to one box. A box full of pictures, CDs, memories, and gifts.

When she was done gathering all the things that belonged to yesterday she thought long and hard about what she was to do with it.

When a relationship ends it’s a ritual to remove all things that remind you of him/her. Many people frantically gather their things and or even burn them. They bring down the pictures, remove all the gifts, fold away all the memories, like if by removing all the physical objects they could do away with yesterday.

But does it really make a difference if you have that box hidden under your bed, collecting dust, or it being far away at a landfill, becoming dust? Can you really throw away yesterday by simply removing all the things that remind you of it? Or do we kid ourselves by thinking its easier to forget this way – after all… isn’t healing a process?

She didn't want to forget, put it past her, like it never happened. She'd rather not pretend that song on the CD he burned for her didn’t make her cry once. That his cards always made her smile. Or that the t-shirts that he brought her from his trips, are still brand new because he forgot she didn’t wear t-shirts.

She decided to keep it all as a way of accepting everything that reminded her of all the pain, all the memories, and all the lessons that yesterday brought. It’s not that she can’t part with these things. I’m sure with time all those objects will collect dust and in due time they will be only a memory.

But as of now, she needs them. To remember the story, to accept her mistakes, to grow… so she can have a future. It’s true we lose our battles but it’s also so true we win wisdom for the days ahead.

Thinking back now, there are so many moments of her life she wishes she could go back to, hitting the stop button at just one moment and erasing everything that came after it. But each place she could think to push stop would mean missing something that came after it. Like the lessons she's learned and the strength she recovered.

She needed it all in the end, to let her own story find its finale…

Yesterday's ending

They say that when you truly care about someone you have to be willing to let them go. Allow them to find their happiness even if it means losing them forever.

It’s never the right time to say goodbye. But it’s time to end the story. Sign it and place it on the shelf- her friend said. They were eating lunch and talking about an inevitable ending.

“Can you ever take it out to read it again?” - she said sarcastically

“No, never mind you should burn it” - she said.

And they laughed as her heart sank deeper and deeper.

When you’re young you think you have an idea of exactly what love is supposed to be. It isn’t till long after that you realize just how much more complicated it all is. But still we all march in blindly willing to take the risk. No one knows the outcome. You can’t. You just have to hope that the love you have for each other is enough to overcome it all.

Still sometimes, all the love in the world, all the most wishful thinking, and all the ink of a pen cant rewrite the ending that slipped right out of your hands.

His love was one of the purest most genuine of loves. And she loved him more than she will ever be able to admit. They had something so beautiful but so dysfunctional it could not last. They could blame it on the circumstance, or on indecision. They could blame it on his impossible demands and the expectations he wanted her to fill. They could blame it on many things but with time they began a vicious circle of back and forth I love you’s and I don’ts. They broke up and got together countless times. But after 5 years of pain, emotions up and down, after the lessons, the struggles, the self inflicted wounds, and all the broken hearts their tragic times overpowered all the love and all the faith they had in “us”. With time they were drained. And no hopeful thinking or wishes lost in the stars would make it okay again. They both knew it but it was hard to say. If they did, if they admitted there was a complete utter failure they'd be opening up for a hurt bigger than they could ever imagine. Because though the relationship was over, letting it sink in, was admitting defeat. And after 5 years of fighting the tides to make it through, that hurt.

But there they were in a familiar position, him in front of her, making useless conversation, stalling the moment and the things that must be said. When they finally began to talk, and they began to spill their hearts, she told him she had nothing else to give. He told her he had been awaiting this moment for a while. They talked and talked, about everything they ever felt, about the past, spread the blame for the things they couldn’t change.

“If you could erase everything that we’ve been through, would I still be the guy you’d want to spend the rest of your life with?” – He asked.

She smiled. She had asked him that question when he broke up with her two years ago. So she nswered with the same answer he gave her years ago.

“Yes, but we can’t erase it. I don’t know if our fate is sealed. All I know is what I see in front of me. And today, today I just have to walk away.” And a tear fell from his eyes.

“How did we let it get here? When did I lose you?” he said with the sweetest sadness in his eyes.

She sighed, “I’m not sure darling. It was hard to hold on to what was rapidly slipping out of our hands.” And a tear fell from her eyes. He reached over and took her hands in his. And with the touch of his hand images of them rushed through.

Far from where they are now, are the I love you’s they said, the dreams that they dreamed, and the promises made. For years they fought the world and everything in it. Tried and tried to make something fit to find it didn’t. Their love became only a constant wish, lost among the stars, that tomorrow would be different. That tomorrow they would make it. But when morning came, and the sun shined through, and they fell again into a vicious circle, it would wear out all their will to love.

The minutes passed and they ran out of words, and out of small talk. They hugged and didn’t let go for a very long time. She breathed in his scent one last time. Ran her hand through his hair. She looked at him one last time, reached her hand to his face, and held it there while she looked intently into his eyes. She wanted to engrave in her memory his face. A face she would probably never see again. She kissed his cheek and as she backed away she whispered “I’ll be seeing you darling”. He stood there and though in his eyes there was sorrow, he smiled that same smile he had the night when he told her his name. She smiled, blinked back the tears, and slowly turned around

The ground beneath her shook as she walked away… And the wind that blew by echoed “I’ll be there to catch you when you fall”- the words he said the night she met him. She turned around quickly but he was gone. And her heart sank.

As she drove off into the night she realized that what hurt the most in letting go wasnt that she was writing an ending. What hurt the most in saying goodbye wasnt walking away... What hurt the most was realizing their love had never really belonged.

It never really belonged to the world. Never belonged to a reception where you vow to always love each other and live happily ever after. Never belonged in a real house where you wash socks and slice onions. It only belonged in a story book… where life collided and stories never broke free from the pages…

Endings to no beginnings

The following piece was requested:

What began as an unforgettable weekend soon turned into a reality check. It is true that once in a while we find a person who we think is everything we want. But it’s also true that just because that person is everything you’ve ever wanted that that doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll be a perfect match.

He arrived around noon on Friday. When she went to pick him up from the airport her day dreamer side was excited to see him. She looked at him, he looked at her. And it was a friendly connection. He was charming, and amusing. Everything she thought he would be. There was no denying it. She felt like she’d known him for years. She didn’t have to pretend to be someone else. She felt comfortable and at ease around him. To her it seemed to all be going well. Until the night before he left. They were sitting under the starlight night immersed in conversation when she asked him if he’d enjoyed himself. He said yes and that it was really good to see her. He said

Texas had a lot to offer and then she sensed a “but” coming. So she said “So…?” And if there was ever a moment that she asked a question she didn’t want to hear the answer to… this was it. He began awkwardly describing the things she needed to change in order to make it work. She looked at him nodding her head in agreement because that was all she could do. And her entire little girl day dream came crashing down.

It suddenly was obvious to her that her Mr. Right wasn’t at all tactful. And that she had gotten caught up in the emotions of a summer love that she had forgotten to protect herself from comments like these. Its not that she was a novice at this on the contrary if there was something she was an expert on was heartbreak. But at the moment she had received a slap in the face and she wasn’t even sure if it hurt or if it had happened. So she just smiled and nodded. She’d been expecting his arrival with so much hope that she didn’t remember to be practical.

The day he would be leaving arrived. She was accompanied by a friend to go drop him off. She went up the escalator with him while her friend waited downstairs. It was time to say goodbye. She let him go slowly. She knew the moment she pulled away that would be the last time she’d see him. He looked at her and she knew the moment was over; he kissed her on her cheek and slowly walked away. She walked to the escalator and went down. She never looked back.

“What goes up must come down.” Her friend, who had accompanied her, said from below the escalator. And she sighs because she was right. And though she was referring to her coming down the stairs, in that moment she felt like she had been tossed in the air and was frantically falling down. Not knowing if when or if she landed there’d be solid ground to break her fall.

And in that moment she felt her heart curl into a question mark. Because after all some endings to no-beginnings are very difficult to understand…

In her shoes

The following piece was written almost 3 years ago when my grandmother passed away… With every step, with every stride, with every mile that passes by I more than wish, I pray, that I will one day be able to fill her shoes…

She had over 50 pairs of shoes. But in a white box, inside, covered in cloth, were her favorite shoes of all. They were a bit out dated, but any girl could appreciate their beauty. These were no ordinary shoes. They were the shoes she wore when she got married. Beautiful heels, with a hint of silver, diamonds, and straps made of silk. Gorgeous, exquisite and out of the ordinary. Cinderella would be envious.

I was four when she let me try on those heels. Of course my tiny feet seemed rather to swim in the shoes, but I was so proud to be wearing them it did not matter. My grandmother laughed at the clanckity-clank that echoed in the room as I tried to walk in those shoes. I remember looking up at her, my face was filled with joy, I felt like a grown up being able to reach the counter. I started to cry though when I realized I still couldn’t reach the cookie jar. I thought my new found height would be able to help me reach what I desperately wanted but my grandmother still had to pull up a chair and let me climb on top of it to reach it.

At that point my grandmother picks me up, gives me an extra cookie, and starts telling me the story of her wedding day, and how she came about to receive those shoes. And oh how she spoke of those shoes as the one material item she valued most. I peered down at the shoes captivated by their beauty.

Years later I find myself opening the white box. Uncovering the cloth to find her shoes. And as I look at them a tear falls from my eyes. I take them out placing them on my feet. It’s almost a perfect fit. I circle the room walking in her shoes. I sit on the bed peering down at the shoes and once again I’m captivated by their beauty. And a calmness that I’ve never felt over takes me. In her shoes I remember all the great times, all the laughter and all of the tears. And all the love I have for that wonderful woman who made me who I am today.

But I slip them off, return them to the box and take it with me. I’m going to meet my grandmother so she can wear them. So as she lays there in that bed. I carefully place her shoes on her feet. They put on her make up, do her hair beautifully, and I smile just for her. She looks so beautiful I can’t keep my eyes off of her. But tonight will be the last time I see her. They are preparing her for her funeral. I give her one last kiss and slowly walk away. As I do, I look back, one last time, at that magnificent woman who taught me most of what I know. I look down at my own feet realizing my feet might never fill her shoes.

I can still hear her say: “¿Verdad que están lindos? Algún día, algún día tu también tendrás tu propio par y lo veras, tu lo veras. (Aren’t they beautiful? One day… one day you too will have your own pair and you will see, you will see).”

Now I don’t wonder if I’ll ever get married and have my own pair of stunningly designed shoes. What I really wonder is if I’ll ever get to see life the way she did. For her nothing seemed out of reach, nothing too far, nothing too high… I’m beginning to realize she was right… everything that you’ve always wanted or maybe even dreamed of, could be so close for you to taste but you cant touch it unless you get really high heels, or pull up a chair and climb…

Gone with the wind

The following story was requested:

Maybe the Scarlet O’Hara in her didn’t let her see what was always there. And just like Scarlet she realized the truth when the end was inevitable.

She knew of him for oh so long. He’d always been there for her through the good, the bad, the ugly. His loyalty to her was unconditional. He waited for the moment when she might look his way. But that moment seemed to take too long.

"There’s something I have to tell you. Something I’ve been wanting to say for so long. "

"Well wait. I have to tell you something too."

"What" – he said excited

"I think I’m in love. Okay maybe not in love. But I realized I really like this guy."

"Oh really? What’s his name?"

"Christian "

"Oh" - he said defeated

That night she went on to tell him all about her new found interest. One she even recognized was impossible but that no matter what, she longed for. And he, he never told her what he had planned to say. That he loved her, that he always had.

Time progressed and she became even more aware of the “impossible” situation she was in. He, as her friend, would comfort her with kind words, and a helping hand.

On one occasion, as they danced the night away, she looked at him and said. “I’m done waiting for something to happen with Mr. impossible. Now you darling on the other hand are amazing! Why have I never thought of this before!?!” she joked.

He smirked. “I had. Long ago actually. I really cared about you for a long time. When I planned to tell you, your heart was all ready caught up.”

She looked at him surprised. Could it be? That what she had always searched for, yearned for, had been there all along? Was life that ironic?

It took her time to let it all sink in. Hoping that the lost time could be regained, she asked him to meet up. So they sat outside her house, on the porch, under the moonlight night. They talked about everything and anything. But what she really wanted to say was that she was sorry she hadn’t seen it before. That she longed for someone to care for her, someone to be there, someone to tell her troubles to. That all along she thought she knew who that person could be, not realizing that there was a person who’d always been.

“Isn’t life ironic…” she started to say

“I met someone”

“What?

“I met someone”

She looked at him surprised. Could it be? That what she had always searched for, yearned for, had been there all along? Was life that ironic?

It took her time to let it all sink in. Hoping that the lost time could be regained, she asked him to meet up. So they sat outside her house, on the porch, under the moonlight night. They talked about everything and anything. But what she really wanted to say was that she was sorry she hadn’t seen it before. That she longed for someone to care for her, someone to be there, someone to tell her troubles to. That all along she thought she knew who that person could be, not realizing that there was a person who’d always been.

“Isn’t life ironic…” she started to say

“I met someone”

“What?

“I met someone”

“Who?”

“A girl. And she’s really great. We’ve hit it off really great. I’ve been meaning to tell you. It just hasn’t come up”

“Oh”. That’s all she could say as her heart sank.

Maybe it’s true, what they say, that the things you want will make you cry. While the things you need will pass you by. What you’ve always searched for, longed for, could be written in BIG BLOCK letter’s in front of us but we choose to disregard it still thinking things should be more clearer. She’d always known what kind of guy he was. The kind you fall in love with and live happily ever after but that wasn’t enough for her heart at the time. At least not till it was too late. Yes. Life is that ironic.

She sat there long after he was gone. She realized she had wasted so much time loving something that never really existed that she let slip away what could have been. She sighed as the wind blew by, taking with it the handkerchief she let slip from her hand. She sat there looking at it as the wind blew it farther and farther away… And like it too she wished, and prayed that all of her regret would disappear and would be gone with the wind…

Never Been Picked

The following piece is a story written about a funny conversation a friend of mine had, i chose to write it in first person to add enfasis... enjoy:

“I feel his pain” My friend said as we sat on the bench after a long run.

“What?” I said puzzled.

“I said I feel his pain”

“Who’s pain?”

“That kids!” She said pointing to the group of boys on the baseball field.

“Why?” I asked

“No one’s gonna pick him watch”

I looked at what she was pointing and sure enough there was a group of kids about to play a game of baseball. Each captain was choosing the players. One by one the kids lined up, till the last one standing was the boy. He looked with hopeful eyes to one captain than the other. Realizing all positions had been filled, he shrugged his shoulders and slowly began the walk to the bench, where he sat slouching down, resting his chin on his hand.

“See!” she pointed. “No one picked him. I’m like that kid. Alone and unwanted.”

I laughed, “Why is that?”

“The first time I met Joe I thought he was so cute. The next thing I know you’re talking to him."

I laugh... “I didn’t know you were interested in him”

“I’m not! It gets worse. Then I went to Miami with Mary. We sat in first class when along comes the pilot. He was so dreamy. Handsome. Perfect. We both got excited because he talked to us. When we return home, on Saturday, Mary called me to go to a party. You know how much I hate parties?”

“Yea I know”

“So I said no, I pass. Like I always do. Besides nothing exciting ever happens. The next thing I know Mary calls me the next day to tell me that the pilot was a witness!!! And he was at the party and now they are talking!!”

“Oh no!” I said jokingly.

“It was always my dream to marry a pilot and travel the world… that was supposed to be me”. She says overwhelmed. “I never get picked. I hate you!” she said laughing.

“That’s not true!” And I hug her.

“Do you realize I have 11 bridesmaid dresses in my closet… I’ve thrown showers. I’ve died shoes colors not found in nature. I’ve danced with weird groomsmen! I’ve done it all. When is it gonna be my turn?” she says defeated.

“You’re prince charming will arrive one day when you least expect it. You’re turn will come” I said trying to comfort her.

“That sounds like a bad hallmark card you give to your unmarried friends!” she says.

And we both laugh. Because love is like that. We all line up to play the game. Some are first picks. Some find a place to hide when their name is called. Some are the replacement of an injured player. Some are the substitution of a player who has no game. And then there are those who await, slouched on the bench, for the sound of the whistle, for the sound of their name, for the sound of love to say. It’s your turn. Play ball!!

When the past reaches into the present

“Miriam!”

“Yes!” I turned suddenly to see my friend with her hand on her hip

“Aren’t you listening to a word I’m saying?”

I smiled a crooked smile and said “frankly my dear… no.”

“Ah! What is wrong with you”?

“Nothing”

“Yes there’s something wrong. We just passed Neiman’s and you didn’t even glance.”

“Oh, did we? When?”

“Somewhere in between… what’s with you?

I sigh one of those horrible sighs that reaches into your heart and makes it skip a beat

“I don’t know. It’s a mixture of hormones or my past reaching into my present. My present making me feel jaded, my future being a blur. Or the lunch we just ate that gave me heartburn. Take your pick”

She laughs, “You need serious shop therapy and I know exactly what will do the trick” so she swings me around and we head straight to the vintage shop I love.

She drags me through the rows of 1950’s dresses, art deco pieces, and old tacky furniture. I drag my feet through the store not showing interest in anything. I’m having one of those days where nothing catches my attention or moves me deep enough to drop hundreds of dollars for. So it isn’t long till we leave the store.

The only thing I was craving was about 7 ounces. And his name was Latte. After getting our drinks. I sit down as I wait for my friend who decided she needed a bathroom break. I sit reading my email on my phone. As I hear a familiar voice say my name. Chills run down my body, as I look up, and the “Past” is staring straight at me.

Before I could say anything, he was all ready sitting down, staring into my eyes the way only he knew how.

“How are you?” those were the first words I blurted. Not – I hate you; you broke my heart, or the other thousands of things I’d planned to say when I saw him again. No! Just a simple “how are you?" What followed was a polite, short conversation about family, current jobs, and simple weather conversation. His phone rang; he looked up, and said, “I should go”.

“Oh ok” I said. But he didn’t, he just looked at me and smiled

“Yes?” I said

“You’re still just as beautiful” then he turned around and walked away. And my heart began to beat again.

“Who was that?” Said my friend returning from the ladies room.

“No, one.”

“Right… You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“You bite you’re lip when your nervous, who was he”

“A bad habit I had to break,” I said as I bit my lip.

Life’s funny that way. Just when you put it behind you. Just when you forget where you have been. The past comes back into your life and you realize you still care. The next day as I was at work I was angry with myself for letting him stir something inside me. I hated the feeling, the emotion, the moment. I went through my email still having a very serious conversation with my self when I peeked at my inbox. And sure enough there it was, he’d written an email. It was short and simple.

Hey kid. Just wanted to tell you it was good to see you again. I didn’t lie… you look absolutely beautiful.

I hated when he called me kid. And his nerve to just jump into my life like that. Ah! I slid my cursor to the delete button and in that moment I wished not only to erase a simple message, but the past, the memories, the tears, the pain, the feelings that still remained. I clicked it frantically. Maybe I wasn’t looking at what I pressed but when I looked up the screen message read “Message has been moved to your outbox. You can view the message by going to your Outbox

folder”. And I sighed one of those horrible sighs again, yes, the ones that reach into your heart and make your heart skip a beat.

See that’s the thing about the past. Sometimes there are no delete buttons. No way of erasing those tragic or desperately hurful moments or people from our past. Maybe it just gets shifted to another part of our lives or somewhere deep into the back of our hearts and our minds. Till the moment when you’re strong enough to face it again or till your outbox is too full that it over flows into your present...

The truth about forever

The following short story is dedicated to a dear friend of mine who taught me that forever is the time you make infinite…

Goodbye. That’s the last thing he said to her. Goodbye. She hated goodbyes if you ask her what she needed… she’d say she needed more hellos. But all she got was a goodbye. A finale, a conclusion. The end. TAN-TAN. Like the notes at the end of a Mexican song that tell you to applaud. But after years of farewells, I’ll be seeing you’s, and until we meet again moments she’d learned there was no point in being picky about farewells. You were fortunate, more than blessed, if you got a goodbye at all.

He was leaving to a place where she could not follow. Where phones, and computers didn’t exist, only memories and old photographs.

After they said goodbye she got in her car, and just drove. She felt like driving, hitting the open road, never looking back and never getting anywhere. So she just drove, as she bit her lip trying to hold back the tears. She was facing the sunset. And as she did she wondered if the longer she drove in that direction she could find some comfort in chasing the sun. After all, she needed a sun rise not a sunset. So she drove as the wind blew whispering words and memories that brought tears. Because our memories are capable of spanning the miles and in seconds we are there again. In that moment. With that person. At exactly the moment when we realized just how much we cared about them.

She could still hear him say “I’ll always love you. Forever.”

“But…” she said hesitating.

“Forever isn’t infinite time but the time you make infinite. Forever is what we make it. For tonight let’s make forever count.” He interrupted. She wanted to believe in forever so that night they made forever count.

His words echoed in her head but she just drove. Off into the horizon where the sun meets the earth. Where dreams, and wishes never die. Where “always” lives on forever…

Maybe it’s true after all. Life, love, happiness is what you make it. For any of us our “Forever” could end in one hour, or 100 years from now. You can never know for sure, so we better make every second count.

What you have to decide is… If your forever was ending tomorrow, would this be how you’d want to have spent it?