Photography 'Chore' courtesy of: Damaris
When nursing a break up from someone that you actually loved, not only do you have to try to purge them from your thoughts, but also purge every physical trace of them from your life. It's difficult but theraputic to go around the house and see, really see it all, and then either fix or clean every thing that they touched. Each of these little visitations brings up the painful memories, but the act of ackowledging them, and then purging them is validating. I've found that guys are really good at doing this right away. Women tend to linger, unless they're angry enough to take immediate action.
Alone, I roam through my house, and perform the ritual... in the yard, where the bottle caps lay that he said he didn't want to put his hands in the mud to grab for me... the floors that still need to be cleaned... the toothbrush to be thrown away... the sheets and towels that need to be washed from our lovemaking... the hole in the bedroom door that needs repaired... the dent in the drywall that I'll just cover up... the dents in the side of my truck that need to be fixed... the candlesticks that were a gift from my mother that need to be thrown away now... the food from the party that needs to be dumped out because that's a memory too... all of these little things, these little heartbreaks, these little landmines laying all around the house that have to go. And there's the shirt... one last thing, the big thing, the shirt, that I bury my face in and give one last, long smell of, and remember the good and tender moments, before throwing it away.