Heartbreak. It happens to mostly everyone - good relationships gone bad; bad relationships that stay bad; engagements; broken engagements. As humans, we tend to associate memories with certain things or places - you know that one person you think of every time you hear that one song on the radio? You know how you can never drive past that one street without thinking of your best friend who used to live there?
Here I focus on places that are heavily tied to particular memories of mine. This essay was a painful recollection of a relationship gone bad; it was a walk down memory lane. I re-visited locations that I have taken great pains to avoid for a long time, in order to avoid remembering. Here I forced myself to recall certain events that happened in the past, and to see these places for what they really are: just places.
This is where we saw each other for the first time one day in September. It's just a door to one of the many thousands of apartments around town. Nothing more.
This is where we decided that we were a couple, one frigid morning around 1:00 in January. Thousands of people have sat here; it's just a bench. Nothing more.
This is where we first held hands. Someone drove by and screamed, "Just kiss her already." We both smiled at each other and later we did kiss. Feet drag up and down these steps everyday. These are nothing more than stairs to a nameless building.
This is where I told him I loved him for the first time - we were surrounded by flowers and it was Spring. Later I wrote a song about it. This is just a stone bench. Nothing more.
This is where he told me he wanted to wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together. Then we talked about our children that would never come. This is just a creepy statue that I still don't understand. Nothing more.
This is where we broke up. I sat on the left side; him on the right. It was late at night and our conversation was not one of my happier moments in life. This is just an uncomfortable table that can only be used a few months of the year. Nothing more.