Ode to an X

It was my decision to end it. It had to be. Us had no life left. I was happy to leave you behind more often than I was happy to be seen with you. There was no future left for us to live.


And yet, when I saw you in the arms of another woman, I felt a strong urge to get you back. She seemed so happy, content. You? Compliant, useful; that's how you were with me. It didn't seem right seeing you with her. You were mine for such a long time. I know I neglected you lately, I know I didn't desire you any more; ending it was the right thing to do. But my heart skipped a beat when I saw the two of you together walking away from me as if I didn't matter any more.

How could this be? For such a long time you held precious pieces of me within the folds of your deep pockets, the endless compartments of your being that could hold anything I would trust you with. I never ceased admiring you. It felt safe, comfortable, secure with you. I knew I picked right. And it felt even better seeing the envious looks from other women. Not very mature or big of me really; but the truth. We were good you and I, until it all started getting to me that is.
The urge to run up to you and stop you from going anywhere with anybody else was equal to the paralysis I felt in my legs, leaving me frozen. In that moment of stuckness I felt a lightness of heart. And I knew I was happy. And I could see a happy picture of you and the other woman. I was happy you found someone else. I was happy for me because I was no longer burdened with what to do with you. You and me were good then; but there's no more to our story. You and she are good now; you're weaving a new story together.

My initial shock quickly turns to excitement. Your replacement is in sight. More pockets, more compartments, more secrets to share, better handles, better workmanship, better quality. Ahhh ..the joys of a new bag!

Lulou