Tonight, as I found myself standing outside my door, staring at the closed entryway, my heart sank: I had locked myself outside. It was a foolish oversight, one that led me to retrieve the spare set from the keybox.
But what awaited me inside that box was more than just a set of keys; it was a portal to memories long tucked away. Opening it meant delving into the digital echoes of a past relationship, a journey through months of exchanged messages with my ex-partner. As I scrolled through the conversations, searching for the access code to the keybox buried within the texts, the weight of nostalgia settled in.
I’d left the keys out there because the last person to use them had been him. And some tiny, naive little part of me believed he'd just turn up one day to let himself back in. I remember committing flight schedules to memory, hastening home whenever planes from Eindhoven were due to arrive. One night in early March I saw the light on upstairs and my heart lurched, surely not? – only to discover I’d forgotten to turn it off before heading out to work that morning.
The act of revisiting those messages unexpectedly triggered a flood of emotions that I had been diligently trying to mute since our parting in the New Year. In that moment, amidst the mundane task of retrieving my spare keys, I found myself yet again confronted with the lingering ache of a severed connection.
How does one truly overcome the loss of a loved one? I understand this is a question that has plagued humanity for eons, a journey fraught with uncertainty and introspection... I've come to understand that healing begins with acknowledging the depth of one's pain, allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to memories and emotions that surface unexpectedly. But sometimes it's difficult to mitigate this - rough terrain for empaths. How does one seek solace in the fragments of a shattered bond? In moments with the likes of a keybox. Ordinary moments stitched with the colour of absence.
Every time I think of my ex, I actively remind myself that if he still wanted to be with me, he would – simply put. And that seems to clench things.
I understand that you have to let go of people who have let go of you.
But I suppose it worries me that, well…
Aren’t you afraid you won’t find anyone who loves you as deeply as you love?
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Photographs: unless otherwise noted, all images were taken by me with an iPhone 8
