Tag Archives: relationships

Museums of Broken Relationships

2018 Michelle here:  This museum I found in Zagreb, Croatia is perhaps one of the more interesting museums I’ve ever been in [The Sex Museum in Naples is another].  While Zagreb is no uber charming city, this museum had me enthralled.  The end of a relationship is always a trying time for everyone involved even if it’s just a ‘whew, I dodged that bullet’ thought. But I’ve never thought of putting my relationship detritus in a museum for other to look at.  Let this be a reminder that atypical museums can be some of the more educational/informative/pleasurable.

 


A break-up is like a broken mirror:  it’s better to leave it alone than to hurt yourself picking up the pieces.

 

His name was Michael. Today is his birthday. I shouldn’t remember that, but I do. When we met he was 32, and I was 24. We met at work.  I loved his sense of humour and he loved my adventurous spirit.  We were friends first.  Nearly a year, before anything more than friendly happened.  But as is often the case between men and women, something did happen.  I practically dared him to kiss me, and when he did, it was as if time stood still. July 19, 2004…after lunch. The kiss lasted exactly 42 seconds.  I know because I had a digital atomic clock on the wall in my office.  The kiss touched every neuron in my body, and for the first time in my life, I felt alive.

I named him “Nobody” and he called me “Girl. ”  If people asked me who I was dating, and they did because people love to meddle in the affairs of others, I’d say “Nobody.” If people asked him who we was seeing, he’d say “Just some girl.”  It was our secret, and it was exciting.

We carried on our secret affair for 18 months –until I moved away…co-workers weren’t supposed to date. And even after moving to a different state, the thought of him was like a drug.  We were like addicts addicted to each other; couldn’t stay away, yet couldn’t get enough.

broken relationship 4

The first step in recovering from an addiction is admitting that there is a problem, and oh boy, there was.  Michael was as strong as any drug I’d ever encountered, and willpower alone wasn’t enough to make me quit him.  Over time I came to rely on a power greater than myself and contact with Michael became more and more sparse.  Withdrawal is a painful master.  There was physical pain.  There was emotional pain. There were tears.

broken relationship 5
There were no stuffed worms. No legs were broken in this break-up.


The last conversation I had with him was right before I left for Moscow.  He said “you always did want to go places.” and I said “I will always love you, but this will be the last time I tell you that.”  And I haven’t had contact with him since.  After returning from Moscow, I wanted to call him.  I wanted to tell him all the amazing adventures I had.  Instead, I got a cat.  I named her Lily. She was a sweet cat.

 

Lily helped me heal.

 

I still have a post card he gave me. And ticket stubs for various events. And a necklace. And various little notes.  What can I say, I’m a sentimental soul.

broken relationships 1

I knew before I went to Zagreb that I wanted to go to the museum of broken relationships. I find it  fascinating to see what people keep as mementos from relationships.  Not every relationship ends on a sour note.  Some have other obstacles that time just could not overcome.  Some just aren’t meant to be.  Some exist solely to prepare you for the future.  Michael was not my first boyfriend, but he was my first love, and without that relationship, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

I’ve held on to the mementos of the relationship with Michael for 15 years, and karma, good energy, and such being what it is, it’s time to release that energy into the universe. Good bye Michael.


PS...I have a slight confession to make.  One time I was dating this guy.  His name was James. Now I knew that the relationship with James was never going to be long-term, but he was ummm, fun, and I had recently broken up with a cheating bastard I caught with another woman.  I made James brownies for his birthday.  I left them on the kitchen table with a ‘Happy Birthday’ note.  I came over the next day to find everything in the trash. I was pissed to say the least. Livid. Irate. Incensed. A seething cauldron of raging fumes; you get the idea. He was being such an ass. I went to the local World Market, bought a bottle of cheap $7 Il Bastardo wine, and switched it out for his fancy $200 bottle of French Bordeaux.  My friend and I drank the rich, velvet wine while sitting in her hot tub cursing all the shallow men in the world.  I still feel no shame in taking Il Bastardo’s prized bottle of red wine.

In retrospect, the Il Bastardo was still probably pretty good.  After all it comes from Tuscany and is a Sangiovese so probably still good. I really would have like to have smashed Il Bastardo over the bastard’s head, but I got my revenge in other ways that even though the statute of limitations has passed, I’ll still keep my mouth shut because some things are just better left unsaid [or in this case… things are better left un-typed].

at least no axes were ever involved in any of my break-ups

PPS…Names and dates have been changed to protect the innocent…Except Il Bastardo.

PPPS...If I dated women, I’d totally give every.single.one I ever broke up with this bar of chocolate.

broken relationship 6

 

Falling in love again

Charleston is the first city that stole my heart.  I was 9, on a South Carolina history field trip, and riding the boat to Fort Sumter.  I knew at that moment that I would do everything in my power to have that feeling again…wind in my hair, salty air on my lips…freedom….Nevermind I was with 50 or so other 3rd graders, in my mind, I was on my own.

Approaching Fort Sumter

Charleston was also the city I escaped to when I ran away from home at 15. For three glorious days in June, I was a beach bum in Isle of Palms. I read books and swam in the ocean and my hotel’s pool. Then I decided to return home before my absence was noticed. Once again, Charleston represented freedom.

2016 Isle of Palms

Charleston was also the first place I had my heart broken. No, not by some boy, [although that did come later], but by a school. I had an athletic/academic scholarship to College of Charleston to play volleyball, but when I got hurt playing softball my senior year of high school, they took it back. I still wonder what my life would be like if I had gone to CofC instead of Erskine. There’s a good chance that ever single aspect of my life would be different than it is now.

college of charleston
The oh-so-beautiful College of Charleston campus. It was founded in 1770, before the USA was even a country.

Charleston is also the one place I return to at least yearly, if not more often. Whenever my energy level is flailing, I return to Charleston, or at least to the beaches nearby. Sun and salt water heal me faster than nearly anything else on the planet.

So it was with some trepidation that I returned to the scene of the crime, so to speak. Quite some time ago, I was here for my friend’s wedding with my then boyfriend as my date. Of course the wedding was the main focus, but we had hoped to carve out some alone time, too. Needless to say, that didn’t happen, due to how to say it—I fucked everything up due to excessive alcohol consumption. [Note: 2016 version of Michelle does not consume alcohol for several reasons, but a big one is to avoid future situations like this one.] The relationship sputtered on for a bit, but ultimately ended. And I’ve always felt bad about that. So Charleston became the place where I fucked up the best relationship I’ve ever been in, and despite my love for the city, it’s always hurt to return to Charleston, but I do, because really, how can you not love a city that looks like this?

Charleston walkabout 2016 queen st
Houses that look like this

Charleston walkabout 2016
Buildings like this

Arthur_Ravenel_Bridge
Bridge architecture like this

UNITARIAN CHURCH YARD, CHARLESTON, SC
Cemeteries like these

another-broken-egg-cafe
food like this

battery-park-cannon-sunrise5
History such as this

capers island sc
and beaches like this

However, life is funny and fickle and as fate would have it, we both had reasons to be in the city at the same time years after that fateful weekend. And we both knew ahead of time the other would be there too.

Running into each other Friday night on King Street was magical. One hug melted away years of what-ifs? Dinner of hamburgers and fries tasted like the most wonderful food on the planet. We made plans for Saturday to do some of the things we were unable to do together all those years ago… like wander around an aircraft carrier…

Flight deck on USS Yorktown
Flight deck on USS Yorktown

get up close and personal with airplanes

P1010031

and tour a decommissioned submarine, because you know, us history nerds  in the world have to stick together.

Life inside a submarine
Life inside a submarine

We also took a walk on the beach hand in hand, watched the sunrise over the Atlantic, and wrote our initials in the sand. Sure it was cold. After all, it IS January, but 40 degrees at sunrise in January is just about perfect.

2016 folly-beach-sc

And just like that, the weekend was over. We went our separate ways. Who knows what the future holds? Certainly not me, but at least I can say that I fell in love with Charleston again. The most negative memory of the city in my memory-bank has been removed and replaced by the most perfect weekend in recent memory.

Places are like that for me. Linked forever with memories of people and events and food, not just the scenery. Charleston and I have a rich, complicated history and while things are good now, like the most complex relationship with people, I expect it to be ever-changing, ebbing and flowing between love, languish, serenity, and hate.

Charleston walkabout 2016 ghost sign
Relationships are like ghost signs; evidence of their past are etched all over a city.

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