Remnants

As I was driving around tonight, I remembered something. Somewhere between The Killer's "Mr. Brightside" and Whitney Houston's "It's Not Right" (played for the 930482384302nd time today) it hit me. Valentine's marks the first real fight I had with hoodie!boy. Well, not Valentines per se, but I know it was close enough, because I was working on a Valentine project at the time.

In short, he promised he'd do something for me at work. And he didn't. He ended up having a valid reason, but he didn't send me an email or text saying "head's up..." he simply didn't show. I covered for him I have a very fine line between "best construction" and "co-dependency" as I'm finding out and really, no one was the wiser. Life went on, I was spitting angry, but there was really nothing to be done and the consequences were minimal.

Let's say as soon as I could slip away, I found him. And yelled. Me, who never, ever raises her voice, yelled. In public. Told him that I was pissed and that he could have at least sent an email instead of leaving me hanging. Then, being the stereotypical woman I can be at times, I told him I was done discussing it.

And I was. For about a half hour.

Then I found him and apologized for yelling. How that was very much something my mother would have done, and I don't want to be like that. He apologized too, saying that there was no reason for him to not have sent a text. The secretary was there, and was like "you know, when he realized what he did, he really felt bad..." So, that behind us, we made small talk about whatever for a minute, before I peaced out to go home. He wanted to know why I was going home when we all were going out for a movie, but I told him I wanted to shower and iron my hair.

I don't remember what movie we saw that night. I just remember going out bar hopping that night and feeling that we were okay. The winter air was still warm, and combined with the pulsing base, it was intoxicating. But the thing I remember most? Standing on the side of the street, pulling a clove out of his mouth, and smoking it. I said I slightly envied him for all of the experiences that he's had. He scoffed at me and wondered what I could possibly be envious of. Then I mentioned I didn't know he smoked. He said that it was one of the remnants from his past.

I can't tell you how many nights I lay awake in my bed trying to figure that out. Like it was some puzzle to be solved. A year later, I still don't entirely know what it means... and I'm okay with that. Still, that answer has touched me, made me think about a lot of different aspects of my life. I realize that wasn't the intention, but it has made me catalog my remnants. How, if I squint and tilt my head just a bit to the left, I can see the girl I once was... and maybe the girl I left in my college dorm. Or maybe that's just because I miss that version of myself a lot lately.

And seriously, I just realized he goes into that category. No shit, like this thought just popped into my head about 27.4 seconds ago. Because do we have a future together? I'm thinking not right now. I don't know if either one of us will get our crap under control. I don't know if our feelings will ever line up. But regardless of that... all of these experiences will be remnants of my past. Not define it all together, but there will be traces. There will have to be. I don't see how I can erase any of this. Going back to change history is not a luxury that any of us are permitted.

So, this may or may not be my obligatory Valentines post... I don't know yet. See what mood I'm in tomorrow night.