I'm in Houston. unpacking the boxes upon boxes that are the artifacts of a life lived in New York City. Boxes which up until two weeks ago had spent a year and half at a storage location in Harlem.
When we start coming across some decidedly feminine products. some empty facial cream tins, some decorative jars to hold bathroom supplies and other misc. She asks me what i'm doing with these things and i say "the were probably ______'s (my ex)" "She lived in my place for a few months after we broke up while she looked for a new flat. "Que bien la tenia, todavia vivio en tu depa?" (She had it nice, she actually lived in your flat?" She then asked how could it have ended if she had it so good, something which reminds me that in my mom's generation all a man really needed to do was take care of his girl and that's it. No messy emotional baggage to deal with, at least not on the surface. I say something about it being complicated and then in something that struck me as suprisingly naive for a woman as bitter as she is she said "But she seemed so in love with you when i saw her at your graduation."
"Yes" i say
"She was" i say
"We were" i say
but it had nothing to do with it.
and it didn't.
Labels: personal