My first Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend was spent ass-deep
in his ex-girlfriend’s stuff.
We’d been dating for three months and I’d spent most of that
time bugging him to clean up his place. To say that he had clutter is an
understatement. We made a deal that the next free weekend we had available we’d
spend it purging and organizing his apartment. It just so happened that the
next free weekend fell on Valentine’s Day.
With thoughts of flowers and chocolate being presented like
I’d seen in every commercial and after school special I’d watched since the age
of five dancing through my head, I dove into the clutter with zeal. After this
chore was done there’d be romance, more importantly, there’d be chocolate.
I’d grab items and say, “keep, toss, donate?” expecting that
most items would end up in the keep category. To my surprise most of it was
deemed a toss/donate and most of it had belonged to a woman. Girly books,
photos, jewelry, tank tops, stockings, and even the beginnings of a fanfic
novel all got tossed into bags. Eventually I stopped asking and just threw
anything that had the look and feel of a female out. But I had trouble throwing
these items away without getting absorbed in them first. Especially when I
realized that I was sitting in a pile of stuff that had made up a person’s
life.
I learned a lot about my first boyfriend’s ex that day. She
was a figure skater, she read a lot of bad novels, she wore clothes I would
never wear and she was bad at spelling. Looking at these personal objects and
piecing a dossier of the ex together in my mind was more revealing than hearing
about her from other people and I recognized that we were nothing alike. My
boyfriend explained that his ex had broken up with him suddenly and left almost
as quickly. The breakup was premeditated, but she didn’t bother to pack up
properly and he had never bothered to go through their place and throw her
things away, until now, until meeting me.
Two days and 40 garbage bags later, his place was finally
organized and no trace of the ex was left. What was left was a greater
understanding of each other. I knew more about my new boyfriend and his past,
he knew more about me and we made a promise to always be honest with each other
and not let clutter (mental or emotional) build up between us. He never did buy me flowers or chocolate, and
I discovered he isn’t the romantic type and doesn’t like holidays, but in the
end I didn’t mind.
It’s been over four years now and he’s still my boyfriend,
my first and my last. We’re still always honest with each other. I love him,
not because he sweeps me off my feet on Valentine’s Day like I see in many
commercials and after school specials, but because he treats me like a queen
all the other days of the year. And when I say we have to clean the apartment
and take out the clutter, he hops to it and takes care of business.
