Artifacts
the remnants of relationships only serve to remind
I deleted his voicemails.
They were just sitting there - fifteen of them, some dating back to 2016 - not serving any purpose but to remind me that he once loved me. I listened to them all before I deleted them. There were the ones that were easy to get rid of (please pick me up at the car stereo place), and there were a few from that time he had a seizure in a Florida airport where he sounded panicked and unsure, a real departure from his usual confident self. I lingered on the voicemails. They showed a vulnerable side of him, but also reminded me of his alcoholism, of all the problems and roadblocks that came with that. His voice was troubled, and the ending “I love you” hurt my heart.
What would be the point of holding onto these artifacts from our relationship? Would I turn to them when I was feeling sad and lonely and yearning to remember his voice, which is slipping away from me now? I could picture myself in the throes of a depressive state, picking up my phone and listening to him say those three words with such ease, like it was a natural state of being. I decided that would be incredibly unhealthy and deleted the messages one by one, my heart aching a little bit as each one disappeared. I felt like I was erasing part of us, part of our history, but I also knew nothing good would come out of keeping them.
I started thinking about all the other artifacts that broken relationships leave in the dust. Wedding rings, t-shirts you bought at concerts you attend together, photographs, old birthday cards that contain declarations of forever, movie ticket stubs from your first date. All these things lay hidden around your home, just waiting to surprise you and knock the wind out of you. Is it better to round up the detritus of your relationship immediately and discard the stuff that would remind you of the love you shared, or do you just let them linger and deal with them as you find them?
My wedding ring sits on a shelf in my living room. I don’t know why I have it there in plain sight, where each day I can see it and be reminded of years of feeling so sure that our bond would never be broken. I don’t know what to do with it. I could just stick it in a box with other items that break my heart upon viewing, and maybe throw that box off a bridge and into a stream in Twin Lakes Forest, a place we liked to visit together each fall. They’d be gone forever, then. Cast aside so as to never intrude on me again. But is it fair to discard such memories? Is it helpful? There were good years, good times, and one shouldn’t have to throw all that away once a relationship ends.
It’s a form of self preservation, I suppose, to get rid of everything. It’s to prevent future harm. The ring, the voicemails, the cards, they all serve to cause pain now and maybe if I hung onto them for a while they would cease to be so fraught with emotion and I could look at them and feel a little wistful and that’s it. For now, that ring is a reminder of broken promises, the voicemails a reminder of a love that refused to last. At least those I could delete and be done with them. But the physical artifacts remain. I think I’ll pack them all away, give them to my sister to hold in case one day I feel strong enough to look at them and remember the good times. Or maybe I’ll head to Twin Lakes. Let the water carry them away, where they will sink to the bottom of the muddy lake and become one with the earth. They’re just artifacts. I might miss them. I won’t miss the way they make me feel.