I Confess A Fatal Flaw

It's been a busy week. I haven't written yet about lots of goings on, but I promise I will.

Meanwhile, my time is getting eaten up by out of the ordinary things.  I've had some shopping to do, some cake decorating to work on, and other things too.  We had that slight cool down a week or so ago, it warmed right back up (doors slammed shut again, ac on due to monster baking sessions), and I've also been pouring through my closet yet again, getting rid of things.  This most recent clutter bust had to do with shoes.

I used to have a shameful amount of shoes.  I wore them all at various times.  I love shoes, and would buy a ridiculous amount of them, boots too. When I moved here, I kept several pair that I thought I loved too much to give up.  None of them are flip flops, that would be too practical.  Instead, they are lovely dress shoes. Pretty snazzy ones.

Those multiple pair of pretty snazzy shoes have sat in my closet since I moved here, collecting dust. Worse yet, none of them would work with that ever-so-fancy dress I've got for that big event coming up in the very near future. I grabbed my step ladder this week, and pulled them down from that top shelf that I could not reach.  I opened every box with care, and marveled at how pretty they are.  As I was admiring a certain pair, a receipt slipped out of the box; the receipt for the shoes.  I looked at the date, and was shocked to see how much time had passed since those shoes entered my life.  As I read the receipt, I remembered the event I wore them to, and remembered all the friends who were at the party I wore them to.  I remembered my friend who first found those shoes, it was the same friend who was kind enough to run to the end of the State I lived at the time to fetch them for me. That friend was, of course, also at the party when I wore those shoes.  That person and I are no longer friends.  It's been a long time. As I found myself surrounded by shoes, it was almost as emotional as going through photographs of days gone by.

I attach too much sentiment to objects.  I admit this has long been one of my fatal flaws that even I am aware of.  So, that fatal flaw reared its ugly head as I was admiring long lost shoes. I didn't want to get rid of my shoes. I lugged these shoes to the tropics from the cold zone, but have never worn them once since moving here.  I began to feel ashamed... guilty.  Its like these shoes, none of which were particularly pricey or anything special, were little works of art. But, they were like works of art that had been stolen by some thief, and sold on the black market.  So, the art is stolen, and sold illegally, and thus cannot be displayed for all the world to see, as would be just and right.  Art is made to be appreciated, if it is not, it is wasted. At least in my eyes.

So, I took one last look at those pairs of shoes, wrapped them up in my best recycled tissue paper, re-boxed them and carted them out the door to be sold, to be worn by someone new. To be appreciated.

They're gone.

When I look at the top shelf in my closet, there is space instead of boxes.  I am still thinking about those shoes, and realizing that part of me still wants them to be there.  Its embarrassing. I don't think I even really understand.  But, they're gone, and I am not going to change my mind enough to retrieve them

They will stay gone.

I cleared out more space in my closet thinking I was simply going to get rid of some shoes.  Instead I found myself surrounded by a flood of memories, and the realization that time is passing much quicker than I want it too.

I think the only thing to cure this ill will be some shoe shopping. And soon.