




 
Search
|
|
After breaking up with someone,
what do you do with their stuff?
Issue #16
I broke up with someone and, on my birthday a year later,
received a FedEx package from her. I assumed it was a present, though
I couldnt figure out why since she wasnt happy about the breakup.
It turned out to be every single gift, letter, photo or book that I had
ever given her.
Mark
Hosler
Ive gone through the boxes my ex-wife packed for me time and again,
and it still amazes me that I can find some of her things. At the same
time, Im not surprised since she had so much god damn STUFF. Whenever
I find something of hers, I put it aside and, once theres a pile,
slip it in an envelope and send it off.
Oddly enough, Ive never gotten the same courtesy
from her. But the only items whose loss ever upset me was the first two
films in a series of six, Lone Wolf & Cub 1 and 2. I
like to break those films out once a year or so and was getting the urge
when I realized they were gone. No problem, I thought. Ill just
order them again. I would rather spend $70 on two videos than pick up
the phone; thats how much I didnt want to talk to her.
Then the news came that the versions I wanted werent
available anymore, only some crappily resubtitled subpar prints. Goddamn
it. It actually made me pick up the phone, only to find that my old number
was disconnected, my ex had moved.
So now, what do I do with the junk of hers that I
continue to find?
Mike
White
One December evening, I was in my kitchen with some friends
gathering mementos from my youth to give as Christmas presents for my
nieces. I proudly displayed to my mates a glass jar full of tiny, fascinating
rubber animals and a fine deck of Russian playing cards, circa 1947. But
the piece de resistance was a handsome teddy bear hand-sown by my mother
at the time of my birth, made from an old beige terrycloth towel and stuffed
with worn-out pantyhose. I had kept it with me since my earliest days
but after moving to Brooklyn it had remained tucked away atop a large
bureau in my bedroom.
It had occurred to me that the bear would be a fine
thing to pass on to my youngest niece as a proud heirloom of her grandmothers
creative finesse in times of poverty and I announced as much to my friends.
So I went into my room and returned to present the creature. As I entered
the kitchen I froze as my eyes fell upon the thing; there, upon the smiling
visage of the beast, below the tiny black stitches which comprised the
mouth, on its little chin, was etched with a red ball point pen the word
"EVIL." Funny, I thought, I never noticed that before. My mind
was in something of a swirl. I had absolutely no idea how this could have
come about until one of my friends (or, come to think of it, all of them)
pointed out that it must have been done by my ex-girlfriend with whom
Id initially shared the apartment and had had a particularly unpleasant
and spooky break-up some nine months earlier. This certainly seemed in
keeping with the sort of stuff shed gotten into lately, but, for
the life of me, I couldnt figure out when she would have had the
opportunity to vandalize the little thing since our relations hadnt
really turned unpleasant until at least a month after she moved out. Then
I remembered: for several weeks after she left I had taken care of her
cat she came to pick him up when I was away from the apartment. Recounting
this day later, she let me know that she had taken this opportunity to
read through my journal and, in fact, quoted a passage from it.
Actually, I consider one of my greatest flaws to
be that I, in fact, do not keep a journal. Rather, what she had gotten
her hands on and quoted was an on-the-scene account of a particularly
heavy mushroom trip Id taken a few weeks after shed left.
During this experience my mind had got to wandering (naturally) and I
began pondering matters philosophical and jotted some notes about the
Belle Epochs "fuzzy" attitude toward good and evil inspired,
I guess, by Nietzche (whom Ive never read, although my ex-girlfriend
did and loved it) and how any such play with these notions had been made
a bit difficult by the real evil wed witnessed in the twentieth
century (Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, Union Carbide, etc., etc.). Perhaps
my writing was a bit sloppy and I didnt quite get the point across
effectively, perhaps her reading of my hallucinogenic rant was too speedy
because she was afraid I might walk in the door at any moment, or perhaps
she was upset by the passage where I stated that she would have been a
wonderful person if her family hadnt taught her "Catholicism
and hate"; but in any event she became convinced that I was a wicked
person and took it out on my bear.
And oh yes, I should mention that the last time I
spoke with her she announced that shed joined a Wicca coven and
that "We dont do bad things, we only wish our enemies love
and light."
Anonymous
My sophomore year in high school, my girlfriend and I
broke up after she heard (false) rumors of things I supposedly said about
the relationship. She walked into our English class, took her seat in
front of me, turned around and called me an ASSHOLE, then threw at me
every letter I had ever written to her. They bounced off and flew all
over the classroom.
Adam
W. Lasker
For five years, I lived with a control freak who never
let me keep stuff in the living room. When I moved in, he told me that
since his stuff was better than minesince it cost more moneyI
should get rid of everything. (He said if we broke up, hed give
me $500.) Before he knew I was moving out, I gave away everything he was
storing in my closet: a TV, VCR, cashmere, etc. By the time he knew what
had happened, I was long gone.
Anonymous
After the guy Id been dating for three months or
so dumped me, we had the classic one-for-the-road fuck. As he was getting
dressed and ready to leave afterward, I noticed all his credit cards on
my floormustve come out of his pocket when he took his jeans
off. So I kicked them under the bed and didnt say anything. I wish
I could say I did it vindictively, but the sad truth is that I just wanted
an excuse to see him again. In a couple days, I called him up and said,
"Uh, I think you left some stuff here." In the meantime, I used
his ATM card to check his balance, but didnt withdraw any money
or anything. What can I say, I was young!
Anonymous
Still havent figured out what to do with the fuzzy
handcuffs from my last relationship. They sit in my underwear drawer with
five untouched condoms. What are you supposed to say to your new flame,
"Oh, sure I just happen to have these condoms leftover from whats-his-name;
we never finished the whole pack."
Kristen
Walsh
The first time my boyfriend left me, I was drunk and
left standing at a New Years Eve show in a Chicago club. When I
decided to get out of my jammies three days later, I discovered a closetful
of his clothes. I thought of what Id done in the past (bundling
them up neatly and sending them, COD, to the owner; appropriating them
for myself; distributing them to friends) even as I already had the scissors
in hand and was cutting his shirts and a pair of pants into teeny pieces.
When there was nothing left of the ghost of his presence except a large
pile of pieces of cloth, I decided to learn how to quilt.
Anne
Elizabeth Moore
After a four-year stint with the man I thought I was going to marry,
I endured a painful breakup and ended up living with my best friend, Gabriel,
who also wanted to get married. I knew it wouldnt work; we were
best friends. So, I moved out and stayed with friends for the duration
of our lease: three months. The final month, in desperation, he moved
in with his parents because he couldnt "stand the smell of
me on the bed and furniture." So we split the rent even though neither
of us lived there. Incidentally, I lost ten pounds during that time.
Lori
Eaton
Keys. I must have three or four sets of keys from past
girlfriends apartments sitting in this little ceramic bowl on my
kitchen table. Although Ill never use these keys (in at least one
case Id be shot if even my shadow darkened a doorway) I cant
bare to throw them out. Over time Ive salvaged the keyrings which
once held each set together and distinct. So all the keys are jumbled
up with one another at the bottom of this bowl. Even if I wanted to return
or use them I couldnt. Theyre my keys, my memories, now.
Stephen
Duncombe
David and I stopped speaking to each other a year ago.
Its awkward and hard to think about him now. Last week, I found
his green silk boxers in an old trunk of mine. I think Ill leave
them there.
Vicki
Larson
When my boyfriend and I split up I wrapped all his things
in garbage bags and left them in the front yard. I couldnt stand
to have any reminders of him. One of the reasons we broke up was because
he was a big flake on my birthday (I wont go into the whole story)
and gave me a plant as my present. A plant. It was one of the first things
I put outside and left to die. I never watered it, shoved it behind some
patio furniture, and forgot about it. Now, two years later, the thing
is five feet tall; it just keeps growing, even without any attention from
me. There is symbolism in there somewhere.
Robyn
Forest
I was once dumped after giving Valentines presents
to a boyfriend who was too dopey to get me anything; he felt so crappy,
he initiated an "I suck and you deserve better" breakup on February
13. . . I was recently in a long-distance relationship that ended (this
time, on February 14!) during one of his visits. He had brought all kinds
of amazing presents: flowers, a gourmet coffee maker, and a suitcase full
of Pop Tarts. I got to keep everything but felt like crap about it . .
. Ive lost two VCRs in relationships. They resided two-and-a-half
blocks away from each other, which I always thought was a little weird
. . . I have tried to take a shirt from each relationship, though I havent
always succeeded . . . I once came home to find a grocery bag in front
of my neighbors door that I nicknamed a "dump bag." It
was clearly a bunch of returned books, clothes, and some owed money, with
a note attached. Nice that they didnt have to do that face to face
. . . My last key-sharing relationship was a really tough breakup, and
the personal step of removing their keys from your keychain is not only
sad, but its a constant reminder that youre not together anymore
since your keychain is lighter. I held on to his keys for months, eventually
casting them off my ring with a sort of triumphant feeling. Over a month
later, I saw that he still had my keys on his ring. I dont think
hed even noticed, but somehow, I got satisfaction from that.
Liz
Clayton
I havent talked to my first love in over eight
years, but in this time he has sent me two graduation cards (one had no
return address, the other came two years prior to the actual event) and
a friendly but formal letter updating me on his studies and hobbies (which
I have never answered because I have no idea what to say). Ive sent
him one birthday card.
Last year, with no explanation, he mailed my mother
an orientation t-shirt from my college. Obviously it was mine, but I have
no memory of him ever having it or my ever having missed it. I guess he
ended up with it when we got back together for the third and last time.
Im sure I will never wear it. Why on earth would he have kept this
thing for so long, presumably moving it from house to house and across
state lines? I threw away the underwear he left in my room at my dads
house years ago. Should I have held on to them for ten more years and
then sent them to his parents?
I should probably return the 8 x 10 baby picture
he gave me in high school and the childhood photos he gave me after the
second time we broke up but they are stuffed in a drawer at my moms
house and I doubt Ill ever get around to it. Which is more bizarre:
owning pictures of a virtual stranger or mailing them to one? I guess
my real fear is of finding out what hed dig up to send me in return.
Abby
Bridge
|