Yesterday Molly and I were chatting about stuff and ended up talking about keeping things for special occasions or the right moment. While I have decided, for myself, not to keep waiting to use or drink or wear something for that one right moment, I still often realise that I do.
I also have things around, I didn’t have the chance to use yet. Or they used to be set aside for a special occasion. Or they are a relict of a past relationship. Something that has been around so long, one doesn’t even notice and remember the person it used to connect you to.
Many, many years ago, in a house far, far away, lived my first ever dominant. (Although the internet says it’s about 32 miles (51.5 km) from where Michael lives now and where my home with him is.) I have no idea whether he still lives there and to be honest I don’t care much. But as is said, many, many years ago, when I visited him, he gave a little present.
A woven basket-like thingy. It contained a little bottle of shower gel, I believe, and matching bath salts. I rarely use bath salts or anything like that when I take a bath. Yesterday I had decided that it’s time for a bath. My body was achy and I needed it. I got everything ready and as the water was filling the tub, I thought about how nice a bubble bath would be. As I looked through the stuff I own, to add to the water, I saw the bath salts. Still sealed and apparently they can’t go bad.
I pondered for a second whether to use it or not. Why not? Letting it go to waste, throwing it away, keeping it for another 10 years? What’s the point of it? Adding it to the water meant putting it to use, the way it was intended.
Keeping it as a keepsake? What for? Even if P and I haven’t talked in forever (mostly because he blocked me on Twitter – and I guess things weren’t great after I broke up), it won’t make things more or less about him and us.
So I added the bath salts to the water, had a lovely bath, and sent a naked picture to the people in my UK home.
The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And in it are kept the most precious keepsakes.Henry Wadsworth Longfellow