I saw the brown striped wallet box on the floor next to my bedside table and picked it up. Before my wedding I had been given two new wallets. My wife gave me one because I needed a new one. She was sick of seeing me pull out my stretched and overstuffed wallet with frayed stitching and panels starting to separate. I really did need a new one. My inlaws bought me a new wallet as part of chinese wedding tradition. I was supposed to carry it during the wedding and since I had started to use it, inertia one and I decided to keep using it until it wore out upon which time I would switch to the one my wife gave me. Unfortunately, I never got that chance.
This box I was holding now was probably that unused wallet. I opened the box cautiously and peeked inside to discover that I was right. Light reflected enchantingly off the beautiful leather surface and that leather smell was still there. It would be a shame to let it go to waste and I was never going to use it. My mind ran through a list of possible candidates to whom I could give this special gift and I made a mental shortlist as I lifted the wallet out of the box to remind myself of how it looked inside.
As I opened the wallet, my neck stiffened as my heart fell. Sitting perfectly inside and showing through the license holder was a photo of my wife... or ex as the case may be. I remembered how she complained that I didn't have a photo of her in my wallet and recalled how she had specially bought me a wallet with a spot that would hold her photo nicely. My body lowered itself onto the bed and I sat there, numb, staring at the photo. It had been taken during our holiday to Japan and there she was sitting atop a statue of a red ladybird with black spots. This was our first day in Tokyo and we had exited from the wrong side of Shinjuku station and spent out afternoon walking around like idiots in the business district on a Sunday. But, we still managed to make fun of it this photo brought those memories back. My feelings of numbness were slowly replaced by despair as tears welled in my eyes. I knew I would not be be able to give this wallet away and I slowly packed it back into its box and placed it inside one of the large cardboard boxes into which were packed my old clothes. I sat back down on the bed, paralyzed as the tears trickled down my face.
My task of packing was no easier.
At this moment, I had set myself the task to pack a little more but I find myself procrastinating and writing this blog instead. Feelings of despair, sorrow, loss, pain and even a little regret remain. It probably doesn't help that I ran out of anti depressants today and I'm not seeing my psychiatrist for another few days. Neither does it help that my mom seems to feel sorrier for my ex than for me and then she wonders why I don't talk about stuff with her and tells me off for it. So I find myself weeping at my computer while writing about my feelings and sitting next to an empty plate of nachos. I really didn't need those nachos since I was full before I made them and now I'm satiated. They weren't even that good since I ran out of sour cream and didn't have any jalapenos...
About the only thing that I accomplished this afternoon was to wheel my motorbike out of the shed and into the driveway. But even that was a sad affair. My Yamaha TRX-850 that was at one point my pride and joy is now a dusty relic since I have been unable to ride it for some time. Given that I won't be able to ride it for some time into the future, I've decided it would be best if I sold it. Money from the sale would be most needed also. I haven't been without a bike for fifteen years and the thought of being without one leaves me strangely anxious and dejected.
When it comes to packing, some things can stay and some things just have to go...
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