Trying to Move On

So...

I've been struggling with how to get rid of the loads of crap that I've accumulated in this twenty year relationship. 

I've been trying to give stuff away like mad. 

I've got about fifty pairs of designer shoes and boots,  

fifteen or more designer suits,

and

too many designer jackets to count. 

This is not counting my many pairs of jeans, silk tops, lace dresses, skirts and all those things that fill my walk-in closet. 

I didn't know what to do. 

I didn't want to donate them to a shop that will sell them for a huge mark up.  I didn't want to give them to a brat to sell on E-bay. 

So, I sat on the crap. 

I think the clutter is keeping me here. 

My eldest daughter is starting her new job today and didn't have any suits or shoes.  She hates my classic taste in suits, so nothing I have works for her. 

I took her to the consignment shop I've frequented since I was a child in the town where my grandparents lived.  She scored several pairs of designer shoes, a silk top and other things for just a few dollars. 

The clerk and I started talking about volunteerism. 

The woman at the store knew me. 

I mean, she knew who I was. 

She knew I was a politician. 

She knew I wanted the city to leave her little store alone.  The urban renewal idiots had tried to shut them down because they don't bring in a lot of sales tax.   I had a nice little chit chat with a city councilperson about it a few months back at a political picnic. 

How she knew that, I don't know. 

She told me that all of her profits go to the battered women's shelter and the nicest of the clothes are given to those women looking to leave abusive partners.  The nicest toys are given to the kids. 


My prayers have been answered. 


I couldn't imagine a better place to send the more classic pieces of my wardrobe.  I can also weed out all those stupid stuffed animals and toys that gather round the living room and end up shoved in my bedroom.

Yippee!

Ask and ye shall receive. 

I get to make the house smell like fabric softener.  I love washing stuffed animals.  My mother's hobby was taking delapitated dolls and repairing them.  That is probably one thing that I can do fairly well. 

First, though, I'm going to have to stuff them in the freezer.  Weird, eh?  Well....it's the only way to kill creepy things that tend to get on them (e.g. dust mites).  Maybe I'll invite a neighbor over for dinner on a day when it's filled with little stuffed animals and ask him to get something out of the freezer for us to eat. 

I could use the laugh. 

I'm also going to get rid of all those stupid kitchen gadgets people buy me.  You know, like those stupid automatic cheese graters.  How lazy does one have to be to use those? 

I mean...really? 

Rice steamer?  What the heck?  I've got sauce pans for that. 

Jello molds?  How old am I? I'm old enough to be afraid of Jello.  If I eat enough of it, I'll hallucinate Bill Crosby. 

I have an automatic potato peeler?  Why?

Why have a salad bowl that tosses the salad for you?   I mean, when I think of a tossing salad bowl, I think of a puke bucket. 

I've carved out the next week to clean out the house. 

The man in the basement knows something is up. 

He made me a key to our house.  It is in the shape of an accoustic guitar. 

Why do I need an expensive key to a house I want to leave? 

He offered to fulfil my dream of a garden of rose bushes dedicated to Aphrodite.  I only have one rose bush.  I can't take it with me.  Why would I want to plant more?   

Sigh....

How does one explain the concept of separation? 

I love him. 

I love all of my exes. 

Over the course of the past four years, nearly every man I've ever dated has come back to visit me.  Maybe it would be safer to say, every single man I've seen naked has come back (even the gay roommate who had a habit of NOT locking the bathroom door). 

Excuse me....I have to shake my head.  Some memories just have to be shaken off. 

His skin was so much prettier than my own.....still is...I will forever be jealous of his beauty. 

Sigh....

If these blasts from my past have taught me anything in the past three years, they have taught me that I can love someone and not be with them. 

I'm good at loving at a distance. 

I don't know what to do. 

When I don't know what to do or how to say it, I tend to stay silent until the opportunity presents itself. 

I'm in severe pain. 

I miss falling asleep with someone and waking up to someone.  I miss the most basic things that people should take for granted in a marriage. 

How does a woman explain this to a man? 

HELP!!! 

I really need a good friend to help me figure out what to say.  I could hire a therapist but it wouldn't be fair to stick the man in the basement with my bills. 

Maybe if I sit in stillness, the answer will come.   

Love,

S.