Saturday, November 5, 2011

A Letter to My Ex-Boyfriend's Windbreaker

Dear Ireland Zip-Up,

When I cracked into my fall/winter wardrobe bin and saw you laying there at the very bottom, I couldn't help but flash back on memories, both fresh and forgotten, from over the last ten years. I used to love you and your floppy neck revealing the Irish flag colors. I felt proud because after all, didn't wearing you come with an understood permission that I could wear you because I am Irish...well, American with Irish roots? I felt right in you. I wore you because I felt the need to say something about myself that went something along the lines of: That's right, motherf#&%^(r, I'm Irish and yes that does mean I subscribe to the cliche stereotypes associated with my people. Yes, I do get rowdy and lean towards violence. Yes, I do know how to hold my liquor and yes I am a natural redhead. And even though one or none of these statements is true, I felt wearing you was my right, much like the right I felt was my mine when I plucked you from his closet the day I moved out. I had left the new sheets my father had just given us. I left the furniture and linens I had helped purchase, the dishes I had brought, the cleaning products and toiletries that were rightfully mine, I left the dvds that may or may not have been mine, the pictures from over the years, but you, well I felt you were mine. Hadn't I even bought you for him? Should not a gift go back to its rightful owner in matters of separation? I did not have an engagement ring to give back, nor a dog to discuss custody, nor even a box of mementos we may want to fight over...but I had you. And so I took you, and when he asked me if I had you, I lied. Yes, the truth is out. I kept you from him. But perhaps I knew you would be more loved with me. Perhaps I knew that with the end of that relationship would come a great journey and that almost a year later I would move to the East Coast where they have seasons, and one season in particular that you would just be so perfect for. I never questioned my moral dilemma over stealing you. I mean what moral dilemma when you really think about? You were retribution in my eyes. But alas, this season, I think I am ready for you to move on. I am ready to give you to a home who does not know the tears cried in you, the beer spills washed from you, that you, along with my renewed sense of self esteem, were the only two things I walked away with on the day I left our shared home. But, Ireland Zip-Up, it's time for you to embark on your new adventure, one not bound to me or to that relationship or, I guess, to him (because you really were his). But thank you for ten cozy years and for being a reminder I shrouded myself in that I have the ability to surprise myself, any day. 

4 comments:

zach brandau and julie matranga said...

Way to let go of that energy, Tony! Surprising ourselves is one of the most marvelous ways of expression in being alive! Go on head now, shake a tail feather with your bad self!

Jenn and Casey said...

Found you from NaBloPoMo. Great post!! Looking forward to reading some more!

Colleen said...

I also found you through NaBloPoMo. I love this and hope it feels good to let that windbreaker go. You sound ready.

Lindsey said...

So ready!! Thanks for checking out. Looking for to checking out yours!