My last breakup wasn’t easy — not that breakups ever are, but this one was a doozy. It was one of those situations where I should have done it a lot sooner, but couldn’t bring myself to go through with it. When I finally told him, I was so beyond done that there was no way I was changing my mind. He showed up at my apartment with all my stuff that same night. Which actually turned out pretty well, because then I never had to see him again.
But a few days later when I looked through the bag he dropped off, it only reinforced that he was not someone I wanted to spend another minute of energy on. He didn’t just bring me the usual things like books, or random articles of clothing I’d left at his place. He brought me anything that reminded him of me even a little bit. Things most people would just throw out themselves. So I was forced to not only erase him from my own life, but do the dirty work of erasing myself from his as well.
- Three frozen beers I’d left in his garage. It being the middle of January, we often used his garage as a fridge. For some reason he thought I might want three frozen bottles of Heineken that I forgot even existed. He probably could have used them more than I could.
- The ticket stub to every movie we ever saw together. So basically just a bunch of garbage. His passive aggressive way of making me feel like dirt. This one probably pissed me off more than anything else just because it was so unnecessary. It would have taken less effort to just throw them out himself. Or burn them like a normal person.
- A shirt of his I wore once or twice. He probably thought he could wash it a million times and never get rid of my scent. This one I understand, but I still didn’t want it. I’m pretty sure it’s bad luck to keep wearing your ex’s shirt to bed.
- A pair of gloves I got him for Christmas. He really needed those gloves. He wore them every day. You’d think cold hands would be a worse reminder of our failed relationship than the nice pair of gloves I’d picked out for him.
- A typewriter. This was actually the only thing I cared about getting back. Before I broke up with him, I told my friend I was worried he’d try to hold my typewriter hostage. But he brought it, along with everything else.
- A bridesmaid’s dress. The funny thing about this is I forgot he even had it. But it’s pretty weird to watch your pissed off, bearded ex yank a red, floor length gown out of the back of his pick up truck.
- A voicemail of just “Adam’s Song” by Blink 182. His super subtle way of telling my he was feeling suicidal, I think? He was apparently a 15-year-old emo kid. Just another sign that the right decision was made. I still called his mom to ask her to check on him. I was pretty sure he was just being dramatic, but you just never know.
- A brochure for a museum we went to. Why he even kept it in the first place I’m not sure. He was the sentimental type. I guess that’s why I had to be the one to throw all the memories of our relationship out— he wasn’t strong enough to do it.
- A strip of photos from a photo booth. I would completely understand if he didn’t want to keep this, but why give it to me? To remind me of good times and make me regret dumping him? Nope.
- Pretty much every gift I ever gave him. Since Christmas just passed, there were a couple shirts, an electric razor, earbuds, and a half eaten box of Turtles. No joke. A half eaten box of Turtles. What he expected me to do with that, I’ll never know.
