Dear Popo:
I need a new pair of slippers. I tried to write slippers, size 8 on my Christmas list, but every time my pencil
touched paper I felt extreme sadness. I
don’t want to replace my slippers. I love these slippers. Their just the right height (low-calf boots),
just the right temperature (my feet don’t get sweaty when I wear them with
socks) and have the perfect amount of sole (enough to keep my feet dry if I walk
outside to take the garbage out, but not too much to make them uncomfortable to
sleep in).
These are not just normal slippers they must have been sprinkled
with fair dust at some point during their creation, making them not just
slippers but THE slippers. I have been
blessed to be the owner and wearer of THE slippers. However, not even fairy dust can keep a pair
of slippers from wearing out.
The past few months I’ve been trying to talk myself into
getting rid of THE slippers. I liken my relationship with THE slippers to my
relationship with my high school boyfriend.
The trajectory of the relationship is really the same.
1. See
slippers/boyfriend from across the room, think wow, slippers/boyfriend looks super cool. I bet we’d have a lot of fun
together.
2. Acquire
slippers/boyfriend.
3. Realize
awesomeness of acquired slippers/boyfriend has an expiration date due to
wearing out and/or graduation. Delay
feeling of sadness for expiration date.
4. Usefulness
of slippers/boyfriend begins to wane, but small moments of awesomeness obscure
the looming expiration date.
5. Ignore
the expiration of slippers/boyfriend even though usefulness of
slippers/boyfriend is no longer apparent.
Thinking about replacing slippers/boyfriend only makes you want to cling
to slippers/boyfriend, whispering we
should stay together FOREVER!!!
6. Begin
to resent slippers/boyfriend and when alone find yourself searching the
internet for new slippers/boyfriend.
Picturing yourself with different slippers/boyfriend uncovers the
delayed feelings of sadness which are stronger than the desire to end the
relationship.
Eventually you have to make the tough decision to end the
relationship with slippers/boyfriend and embrace the feelings of sadness, or
continue in a perpetual cycle of unhappiness and resentment until someone else,
possibly slippers/boyfriend, does something to make the decision for you.
By now THE slippers have so many holes I have to wear socks
with them in order to keep my feet warm.
This means that it’s really the socks, and not THE slippers, that are
warming my feet. Thus, I believe I have
reached step 5 above. I fully understand
the usefulness of THE slippers have expired, but the thought of logging-in to
Amazon to search for a similar pair makes me feel sadness and I only cling to
THE slippers tighter.
Eventually I’ll get to stage 6 and then have to make the
tough decision to end my relationship and take the scary step of searching for
a new pair of slippers. When this
happens I hope THE slippers and I can still be friends.
Love,
Kiki
