Yard Sales
I had a major breakdown last night. For a few agonizing hours, I felt like my chest was cracking apart. Crying couldn't even do justice to the kind of hurt I was cultivating. It seems to be going around, this weekend.
I spent Friday evening with **CB**, and she was still hurting when I left her side at midnight. She wanted to know that she'd done the right thing, and I tried to assure her that it was so. I didn't even know how to relate to her very well, so I don't know how convincing I was, trying to tell her that she was right to euthanize her companion of 12 years. Her golden retriever, Meghan, was suffering with fast-growing cancer all over her body. The pain got bad enough that she couldn't walk, or stand. She was bleeding through her nose. I believe the right decision was made. My friend lost her best friend, though. She didn't take much comfort in being right, and understandably so.
My mind was divided between her woes and my own. I felt bad about it. I'm just not good with grief.
When I was at my worst, Wes was there to save the day. He comforted me. He knew exactly why I was hurting, but he comforted me anyway. The thing that compounded the pain was that Wes was right when he said the thing that hurt him the most was that he knew I wouldn't cry that way over him. It was true, but I felt worse. I managed to choke out the phrase, "soul mates" at look at him pleadingly. He said that's what he thought we were. I knew he understood the tears better than I thought.
He slept in the bed with me, and held me until I was out. I dreamed that everything was okay between me and the one I feared losing the most.
Wes woke me early with a cup of tea. We got out of the house and went looking for yard sales. I managed to pick up a black patent leather and red vinyl checkbook cover for 25 cents, and an enviro steamer floor cleaner for five bucks. We had a blast. The yard sale with the floor cleaner was hosted by a group of 20-30-somethings. One of them was trashed-ass drunk and reeked of beer. He greeted us with a planter pot basket on his head, and engaged in a lively debate with Wes over the merits of a microwave bacon plate. He was shilling a chopper jar for us, but he was standing close enough to me for his breath to be a physical force. I flinched, and retreated, giggling. I left Wes in his snare. It was good times.
We stopped at a store liquidation and got a couple of tables and a new lampshade for my little kitsch lamp that looks like a Coca-Cola bottle. It's kind of cute.
On an impulse, we stopped at the furniture store on the corner. I have been rolling my eyes at the place since they opened, because I hate the name of the store. I mean, I really hate it. But, they were offering 90 days same as cash with no credit check, so I caved. I found myself wandering a maze of sofas in a store called got furniture? It was a good thing. I found a sofa and love seat set for $549, and I got to choose the upholstery. I'm totally jazzed about it. They deliver, too. I'm placing the order this week.
Oh, I checked out my apartment yesterday--one like it, anyway. It's pretty small, but nice. The complex is really nice, and the neighbors seemed friendly. I have to call the manager tomorrow and let him know my choice for the accent paint colors I want. It's all coming together. I move in 6 days. I have packing to do, and a new class starts on Tuesday. This is the kind of pressure that I just love. Really.
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