Guess it’s sort if fitting that everything becomes half when you stop being whole. “Half this is yours, half this is mine,” easy enough to do in 3rd grade when you were dividing marbles or m&m’s. It’s a little harder trying to divide a life.
“You get this weekend, I get the next,” like our child is a commodity that can be equally divided. That hasn’t happened yet but it’s coming.
Tonight I divided canned goods. One soup for you, one for me. Canned goods? My Friday night consist if making sure the mandarin oranges are equally split??? Fine. I got a little irritated and took all the oranges and left the cream if chicken soup from ALDI. Take THAT.
Tupperware…one goes-one stays. I have to be honest. The half that stays mysteriously have no lids. Don’t judge. My friends step mother cut the left leg out of all the suits if her double ex as she made her exit. I feel perfectly justified leaving some topless knock-off Tupperware.
Here-half these goodwill dishes go, half stay. Hey-since my pattern is ALMOST A MATCH from the GW boutique it would be a crying shame to break up a 7 piece service. You go ahead and hang onto it. Same with the Kroger Christmas reindeer glasses that only have 1/2 the reindeer still visible. It’s the backend that remains so it seems fitting that they stay here.
Dividing your life is hard. One cd for me, one for you. I can’t help it that the one that stayed here is TIFFANY’S greatest hits and the Garth Brooks box set is making it’s way to my box. Really. It slipped.
Kitchen towels, casserole dishes, pillows and even hair brushes all get split. “One for you, one for me,” it becomes a sing-song sing along as I walk from room to room carrying a cardboard box and throwing stuff in like I am the Michael Jordan of moving.
Well I only have half a heart so I guess it’s only fitting that I have half the pots and pans. And half the cereal-why exactly do we have 6 boxes of cereal? And coffee cups? Good lord why do we have 17 coffee cups when we both drink. Gulp. Visions of Saturday mornings come flooding in and I grab my favorite coffee mug and start to put it in the box. In a moment if self pity I get sad and think, no one is ever going to bring me weekend coffee again. I decide not to pack that mug. I don’t want the normal-happy-everyday-life memories that come with it.
“Better half” “Other half””the ying-to my yang”….those all mean something else now that my life has split. Half here-half there. Making a full life from half this stuff won’t be easy. But I can do it. Half of something real is better than half if something that isn’t.
I’ll takes half is this life and put it neatly away in my freshly-painted-all-mine space and I’ll make it all whole again. I don’t need your half to be whole. I don’t. I’ll take my half if these refrigerator magnets and be on my way.
I may be leaving as only half of the we that we used to be but I am the stronger half, the better half-the more together half. Don’t believe me? You will the first time you try and pack away those leftovers. 🙂 it might not be as grand an exit as cutting off the left leg of every $1000 suit in the closet but hey-you gotta work with what you’ve got and there wasn’t much more than mis-matched plastic containers for me to work with.
I gotta get nicer stuff if this is going to keep happening. A woman scorned who only leaves topless Tupperware isn’t very dramatic….although when you hear the rest of this story you are going to realize I don’t need much to add to the comedic value if this story. Stay tunes for a blog called, “you ain’t gonna believe this $&@&”