Thursday, December 4, 2008

Just Hit Delete, Dammit

I typically have the cleanest e-mail inboxes of anyone I know, as I use my inboxes as a to-do list. If I'm done with a task or have responded to a message, I hit delete or file the words away in their appropriate outlook folder.

My personal e-mail inbox is a disaster right now. I can't bear to delete any of the kinds words that have been sent along by friends new and old (I am truly blessed with friends, no doubt about that). And I can't stop obsessively pouring over those words that it would be in my best interest to delete permanently.

He finally emailed me back yesterday. A couple of painful exchanges followed; full of emotion on my part and little in the way of elucidation on his part. I don't really have a filter on expressing my pain right now and before I really had time to think it through, I had hit send on an email with story that I had never told anyone else in full before then.

Its a story that explains a lot about how I could be so devastated at the death of relationship that didn't even make it to the six month mark. But it felt good to tell it, as the process of writing helped me gain a lot of perspective. I feel less like a despondent crazy person and more like an ordinary person with an extraordinary amount of baggage. And seriously, there are people out there with cancer and head wounds and no place to live. I can deal with a little heartbreak (ok, a big heartbreak).

A few more back and forths, mostly one-liners about exchanging stuff and me claiming sole custody of a party on Sunday night. But I can't delete any of his emails. The pull to keep a line of communication open is almost overwhelming, even though every time I hit "reply" its about as good for me as pulling out my small intestine inch my inch. With a pair of rusty pliers. While being hung upside down by my ankles. Just hit delete, dammit. Let it go. Let him go.

Going to go to work today. I have one final tangible piece of him to deal with. Its silly really. One morning in August, before we had exchanged 'I Love Yous," we sat at my dining room table drinking coffee while I had my condo appraised for a re-fi. I got up to do something, and when I came back, he had written "I Like You" with a smiley face on the side of my paper coffee cup. I finished that latte at work later that morning and couldn't bear to throw the cup away. It was too cute and funny and sweet. Its been sitting on a shelf in my office since then, sort of a little reminder to myself about what I had waiting for me when I got home at night. I have to throw it away now. Let it go. Let him go.


Anonymous said...

Come to Pain in the Park will feel better.

Lindsay said...

Ah, but my wonderful friend Pascal is taking care of me at Carafe tonight...another time.