Box of Worms

Running with Sasha every morning has been an important solace for me. It helps clear my head and gives me the focus I need to get through every day. I haven’t been doing much outside of working and just taking care of myself. I haven’t heard from Adam at all since the weekend he left…until today.

I had gotten back from running with Sasha and checked the mail only to find a package slip inside. I claimed it at the front office and immediately noticed the handwriting on the address label: it was his. I know I have no right to feel sad about any of this because I’m the one who initiated breaking up. I know that; but thinking about him is painful and seeing his handwriting sent so many emotions through me. I had no idea what could be in it or what it could mean. I secretly hoped it would give me an excuse to call him just so I could hear his voice again…and tell him how much I regretted what I’d done.

When I got to my apartment I unhooked Sasha’s leash and stared at the box nervously before finding some scissors to cut the tape off. My heart sank as soon as I opened it up. There was a smattering of things inside it and a note on top of it:

               I found this stuff while I unpacked and thought you’d want it back. –Adam

It was a random assortment of things I’d left at his place that had accidentally been packed with his stuff. I looked at the back of the note hoping it would say something more but it didn’t. I held it to my chest and felt a tear run down my face. It felt so final and I sniffed and wiped my nose. Molly came out of her bedroom and looked at the box and then at me. I handed her the note and she read it before handing it back to me and then walking to the fridge and getting a drink.

“He’s moving on. This is what you wanted.” Molly had made it clear that she did not have much sympathy for me in this situation and her tone was luke-warm.

I nodded and sighed.

“You could always buy a plane ticket to Cincinnati and tell him you made a mistake and want him back.” She sat on the kitchen counter and sipped some juice.

“What would that do for me?” I asked with irritation, “He still wouldn’t be living here. It would just make things worse. And I didn’t make a mistake. I did the right thing for both of us.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged.

“Look,” I said, “I know you thought we were perfect for each other and I get that you’re pissed because I broke up with him, but I did do the right thing.”

Molly looked at me placidly.

“Okay.” She shrugged again and headed to her room.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at her.

“Molly.” I was miffed at her attitude.

She stopped and turned around to look at me.

“If you’re so convinced you did the right thing, you wouldn’t be spending so much time and energy trying to convince everyone else to agree with you. You’re not trying to convince me you did the right thing, you’re trying to convince yourself, and nothing I say will give you the validation you’re looking for to affirm to yourself that you made the right decision.”

She said it matter-of-factly and left me at the kitchen island alone with my box of stuff and my thoughts. I sighed angrily because I knew she was right and I grabbed the box and went to my room. I started looking through it as memories came flooding back to me. There was a black and white coffee cup in it that was painted to look like a cat, the handle was the tail. Adam had gotten it for me when he realized I was using his favorite coffee cup (unbeknownst to me) every time I was over. A small make-up kit embroidered with flowers, two pairs of socks, a book…my fingers glided over them thoughtfully. A gray sweater sat on the bottom. It was over-sized and I wore it around his apartment when I was cold. I held it to my chest and smelled it.

It smelled like him.

I closed my eyes and thought about what he would be doing right now. He was probably at work, writing a story he’d put all his energy into and making friends with his new colleagues. Immediately a memory surfaced of a hazy Monday morning with him. We were under the sheets and he was whispering the sweetest words to me…they weren’t even special; he was just telling me about his day and the timbre of his voice and his words against my ear sent chills through me. I remember his hands most of all and his smile…the way he looked at me shut the rest of the world out.

You’re so goddamn stupid, Faith I thought to myself just so fucking stupid. What have you done?

Murphy jumped up on my bed and pulled me away from my thoughts, which I was thankful for. There is no point for me to dwell on negative thoughts like that. Or, at least, that’s what Dr. Sheehan told me the other day. She also suggested that I set a date to stop being sad about this to help moving on easier…

“Well, do you think I made the right choice?” I asked Dr. Sheehan at my latest session.

“As your therapist, it’s not my place to judge you, Faith. The question you should be asking is if you feel like you did.”

“I don’t think I’d feel so much regret if I had made the right choice.” I admitted.

“Is it possible you feel regret for a different reason?” She eyed me over her glasses.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What was your reasoning for ending your relationship with Adam?”

“I…I ended it for us. Because it would be better for both of us. Because Adam deserved to be let go.”

“And because you didn’t think you were worth all of the sacrifices Adam would have to make should he pursue a long distance relationship with you from Cincinnati.”

I blinked and felt uncomfortable.

“Is that right?” Dr. Sheehan needled.

“Yes.”

“And how did you feel about that reason when I repeated it back to you?”

I squirmed in my chair and said nothing. She smiled.

“So what do you think your real motivation was for ending things?”

“I don’t…”

Dr. Sheehan eyed me again and changed tactics.

“Faith, what exactly do you think would have happened if you had tried long distance with Adam?”

“We would have ended up hating each other and broken up.”

“Why?”

“Because something would have happened to make being together impossible.”

“Give me an example.”

“Well, what if I cheated on him or he cheated on me?”

“What if that didn’t happen?”

“Okay…well, what if he decided he wanted to stay there permanently?”

“What if he decided he didn’t like his job and moved back here? Or got a better job offer here?”

“Um…what if we drifted apart and could barely stand to talk to each other?”

“What if that didn’t happen and you actually became a stronger couple?”

I got her point and crossed my arms and looked at her sullenly.

“That’s a lot of ‘what ifs’…Be honest with yourself, Faith. What do those ‘what ifs’ represent to you?”

“The potential for disaster.”

“So, really, you didn’t break up with Adam because you thought it was best…you broke up with him because you were scared of a list of possibilities that might have happened. But you’ll never know because you let your fear of commitment prevent you from living the experiences of a full life.”

“Ouch.” I weakly joked.

“Therapy is hard because it forces us to look at the parts of ourselves that we like the least, Faith. You can’t grow as a person unless you’re willing to do that. You’ll just keep making the same mistakes over and over.”

“Kind of like I already have?” I joked again, “I can’t help the way I feel. If something scares me I can’t control that.”

“No, but you can respond to how you choose to deal with it and running away whenever you feel scared will never help you. It’s okay to be scared sometimes, Faith, but you can’t let it control your life or define who you are.”

I snapped out of my memories and looked at Murphy on my bed and sighed. The conversation I’d had with Dr. Sheehan has been weighing on my mind ever since. She’s right; I can’t let myself be controlled by fear…or my past, for that matter. Even though I miss Adam, I think breaking things off with him was still the right decision because it gives me a clean slate, in a way, from my past. I’m not tied to that anymore and it’s time to move on...Adam's already started to.

(Author's note: sorry about the late post, ya'll. I'm not really sure why it didn't post when it was supposed to. -del)