"Look at you in that beautiful dress", said the friendly receptionist at the rehab centre. I beamed and twirled a little just for effect. I had finished all my allocated sessions for the balance classes so I was able to wear something less utilitarian and more stylish to my visits to the rehab centre.
"What shoes are you wearing today?", she asked. She always teased me about my heels since, as soon as I was able, I stopped wearing flats to my rehab session and opting instead to carry my runners in my hand while walking in on heels. I kicked up my heels to show her and she nodded in approval. The other receptionist leapt out of her corner, running to the counter and peering over. "I want to see your shoes", she explained as she leaned over to look before also nodding and remarking, "Nice shoes.. Very nice". If I had beamed any more brightly, I would have incinerated myself from the light.
"Look at her in her dress and heels. Doesn't that make you jealous?', complained the receptionist to my psychologist as she passed by. I laughed as my psychologist approached nodding and sighing.
"I had a friend who used to steal my clothes and I hated it when he looked better in them than I did", bemoaned my psychologist.
"Look at her legs and her feet", continued the receptionist. "Those shoes are just so out of fashion and they don't match your dress.", she teased sarcastically. "The colours on your dress are terrible and your legs have such a terrible shape. Oh, it's all just sooo awful". We both laughed as we wished each other a good week and I left to return home.
As I no longer had balance classes in the afternoon, I had a bit of time on my hands. I decided to start packing some clothes away in preparation for the inevitable time when I would have to move house. Some girls, when they transition to full time, take great joy in ridding themselves of all the male clothes they used to own. For some, the purging process is also healing and pleasurable if not uplifting. Unfortunately, I am not one of them. My tendency to attach emotions to everything I own probably contributes to my hoarding tendencies and also made the process of purging all those old male clothes difficult. I had gone through all those old clothes at one point and had placed maybe half of them into a bag for donating. Most of those clothes were the same ones that my ex had wanted me to get rid of for ages. It was ironic that the (male) contents of my wardrobe was probably what she wanted it to look like now that she was gone.
I still had a decent amount of male clothing and since I wasn't going to be wearing them any more, I figured that I may as well box them up first. As I began doing so, the memories began flooding back as I touched each item, folding it and stacking it neatly inside the box. These shirts that were custom made by my ex's friend who was a tailor and that were made around the same time as our wedding. This shirt from Atelier which I loved because it had that cute little man logo. My ex had bought me a fleecy jacket from the same company and I loved wearing it and became very distraught when the tab of the zip, which was also the little man logo, fell off. She bought me the shirt soon after; she spoiled me so much. That thought hollowed my chest and watered my eyes. I continued on stoically trying not to let all these emotions and memories affect me, resorting to even taking a break after some time. As I continued, those memories continued to flow. These board shorts which we bought at Wilsons Prom one year when I discovered that my waistline had grown and I didn't fit into the ones I currently owned. These clothes that were given to me by my friends for Christmas in an effort to make me a trendier guy. All these memories of a time with particular friends that I will never be able to revisit.
A tear dropped from my eye as the feelings of loss became too much. I packed one last t-shirt into the box and placed the box on the floor next to the bed. Sitting on the bed, I sobbed softly for a moment. Even after this time, the pain was still there. I'm glad the memories remain because I never want to lose them but I long for the day that I can remember with happiness rather than anguish.
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