“I can’t be your friend anymore! It is over! I just can’t do it!” he said as he walked away leaving me standing there.
Tears burned my eyes, I now understand what they mean by seeing red. How the hell could he decide that he didn’t want to be part of my world. I was not asking for anything more from him other than to be my friend.
I make my way home between the tears. Some of them are of anger, some are sadness. He and I had been dating off and on for years, and now he is just going to walk away from me.
I gave into the anger, gathering everything he had ever given me in the 4 years that we had “dated”. Even the cute teddy bear from one Valentines Day.
I was going to just toss everything into the trash. On my way out, I tripped on a heavy pot that I was going to make in to a planter. It gave me an idea as I was cussing the stubbed toe. I was not just going to toss the stuff is was going to burn it. If it was over it was going to be really over.
I placed the pot in my driveway. I started with the cards and letters. I lit one corner on fire let it burn a bit, drop it in the pot to watch them turn to scorched bits. Next the bear, it took a while for him to get to that point, the flame leaping up at him. Next the necklace.
Crying gave way to a calm. I knew it was really over. I was some how OK with it. Next morning it all went in to the trash.
I had to move on.
Think of a time that you “cleaned house.” Consider the subtext—we’re not writing about Windex here. We’re writing about relationships. Or feelings. Or a captured moment in time.
Consider how dialogue and body language bring the moment to life for the reader.
And let’s shoot for around 300 words.
This is my first RemembeRED post. For some reason this one spoke to me.
Galit Breen says:
Oh my, sometimes there’s just nowhere to go but BIG and DRAMATIC and OVER. You really captured that here.
I love the big pot-planter-stubbed toe detail. It grounds the story, brings us to where you are.
{So sorry this happened. Ouch.}
Just a little snarky says:
Thank you for reading. I don’t normally do this prompt but for some reason this one struck my fancy.
Katie says:
This story is so real, I am glad you felt better when it was over.
Just a little snarky says:
Thankfully it was along time ago. As I look back it was the best thing that could have happened to me. Just didn’t know it at the time.
idiosyncratic eye says:
Oh, that moment when you realise that you have to let go and move on, painful, brutal.
Just a little snarky says:
Yes, but some times a necessity.
Nancy C says:
Sometimes, nothing else but a bonfire will do.
In all seriousness. Sometimes, we have to let go BIG so there’s no turning back.
Just a little snarky says:
That has always been my style. Go big or go home
Kim at Let Me Start By Saying says:
This feels cinematic to me. Like a climax that HAD to happen.
“Crying gave way to a calm”, just like a fire. They both burst, then wane, end up clean. Really liked this.
Yet, sorry you had to go through it.
Came from the link.
Just a little snarky says:
Thanks for stopping by. I think it helped me be who I am today. If I had not had that moment not sure any of the one to follow would have happened.
Tina says:
Sometimes, you just have to burn away the debris in your life. This was very intense and dramatic. I enjoyed it!
Just a little snarky says:
Thank you. I was hoping that I was able get that across.
angela says:
I’ve always been tempted to go the fire route, but I haven’t. I was worried about a plastic garbage can, but you got around that
Just a little snarky says:
It was serendipitous that I procrastinated on the planter I guess.
The M Half says:
The power, the release, the freedom in letting go. In literally turning all those things to ash. I’m glad you were able to let it go. I’m sorry that happened to you, but glad you wrote about it.
Just a little snarky says:
It happened about 17 years ago. I guess I was finally ready to write about it. Thanks.
Tere says:
It’s amazing how things can be used as “therapy”.
Hang in there and keep up the writing.