The Breakup

Please, would you come over? There’s a heavy box at the bottom of the stairs and I need your help carrying it. It’s enormous and unbreakable and I believe it will work perfectly for what I have in mind. You and I, we’re going to open it and put inside every memory we have collected during this, our lovely romance. There they will be safe.

We’ll save that time we went to Traverse City and ate lunch from the same plate. And the time we ran wildly down the dunes but then had to make the arduous journey back to the top. We’ll save the nap in the hammock, and the bird call, and our fear of bears. We’ll save the memory of a sunrise from the only hill in Detroit.

Let’s save our first movie snuggled up side by side on the couch laughing. And the first time we said we loved each other, next to that tree that fell down a week later. And the time we snuck Detroit Vegan Soul into the movie theater and everyone leaned in with envy to smell our candied yams. We’ll save our trip to the Pacific Northwest and all of the times we arrived at the top of a mountain, drenched with sweat and satisfaction as we soaked in the view.

Let’s save the outdoor shower and those first months with Stella and our days of playing house at Eric’s. Let’s save the cold nights when we kept each other warm and all of the times we took care of each other when we were sick. Let’s save the People Mover. And the night you comforted Rodney during the thunder storm. Oh darling, let’s save all of our lovely memories.

So, please, won’t you come over? Help me carry this box. Help me collect these memories and lock them safely inside it.

Safe from all of the ways we are about to hurt each other.


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