red shoes.
So much for writing here more often. You know how it goes. Not only did I think I would write here at least once a week if not more, but also I thought I might actually be able to write about something besides sadness and grief. Welp, chalk another failure up on the board. Today's entry is brought to you by that old classic: melancholy.
I threw away my pair of old red Asics today. And it messed me up.
I've always been too stupidly sentimental about things. It's just stuff, I know. There was nothing particularly special about this pair of red Asics. I don't even know what model they were, I think H saw them on sale online and sent me the link. I bought them because of the price and not much else.
They were definitely just casual, everyday shoes. They weren't particularly suited to running or any sport, but they were comfortable enough until I wore through them, destroying the rubber soles. Usually, when a shoe is no longer watertight, I'll throw the pair away. It's not that hard for me to let go of worn out shoes, despite my previous claims of being overly sentimental.
Unless. Unless the particular pair of shoes was the last pair I wore to go on walks with you. Unless this was the particular pair I was wearing the day you died. Unless this particular pair seemed inextricably linked with what used to be so much of our time together.
I still wore them when I went on the walks that I now dub “memorial walks,” as much as I hate the idea that you are only a memory. The memorial walks I still do every day, still unable to fully break myself of this habit.
Don't get me wrong, I had long since bought new shoes. Several pairs. I wore different shoes to work, different shoes when going on normal, non-memorial walks, etc. But when I was going on that special daily walk to remember you, I'd always put on the red Asics.
They were already old when you passed. Despite only wearing them for maybe half an hour a day, they were soon past the point of usual shoe retirement. These shoes waved goodbye to being watertight a long, long time ago. Yet I continued to conscript them into service daily for the walk. I pushed them beyond being comfortable to wear. The hole in the bottom of the shoe continued to grow, starting to look like worn out shoes in cartoons that are exaggerated for comic effect.
I still couldn't let go of them. But this week I'm going on a trip, in memory of another loved one who has passed. Seems like there's way too much of this in my life, but that's how it goes as we get older, I guess. I needed a pair of shoes that would be better suited to more outdoorsy kinds of activities. So I got them, but upon getting home, I realized there was no more space on my shoe rack.
Sometimes, I can only deal with something like this as if it were a bandage. Rip it off quickly and brace for the sting. Almost without thinking, I grabbed the red Asics and placed them in the trash can. And then jammed them down, as if to tell myself there's no going back. And that was that. The red shoes are gone.
I wore a different pair of shoes on the memorial walk today. It's not the first time, there have been days where I was too busy to change out of shoes after work or just forgetful or whatever. But, never again shall those red Asics tread those grounds.
I was surprised I was able to throw them away. Then I was surprised at how it was bothering me, hours later, almost to the point of tears. I was almost crying over shoes. I was almost crying over something that happened over a year and a half ago.
But I managed to toss the shoes. And I didn't actually cry. So, is this progress or not? I don't know, but I'm not dead, FYI. I managed to write a post in March, even! Although I had to pound it out in one quick pass as there is less than an hour left in the month here. I guess that's my way of excusing the writing for being worse than usual. Which is saying something. See you in April, hopefully.