I’ve spent the last week trying to find meaning in Sand Dollars. Mr. Piranha came and picked up all his stuff that he’s left at my house, including his surfboard. It’s funny, returning his wetsuit and misc other items he’s left in my apartment and car wasn’t hard. I just washed what was here and put them all in a bag, including a CD that I had burned for him awhile back. But seeing him come for the board really made my heart drop. In my naïve state I saw that board as a symbol of hope. On my birthday he even joked that he was slowly moving into my apartment. That board meant we would continue to surf all the time, that he actually did want to be with me, that he would be able to get over his issues and things would work themselves out. What I didn’t realize was that he was working out these issues on someone else and that I was just becoming his storage bin. At first he was hesitant about getting his board, but I think that was just a cover, him trying to still be the nice guy because as soon as I mentioned him coming to pick it up he jumped at the chance… and since then I’ve been a jumble of emotions. Mad that I actually let him think I forgave him (though who am I kidding, of course I forgave him for many of the things). Mad at myself that I let him come surf. Something that he annoyingly continued to thank me for the rest of the day. Mad at myself that I let him off the hook so easily. A half ass apology once again telling me how amazing I am, shouldn’t have cut it. And in fact there was a moment when I completely let him off the hook, and oddly it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with a little pet sand dollar… When he came down I kept him at arms length. It was awkward and I am not ashamed to say I wasn’t that nice. We surfed and I continued to keep him at arms length until I noticed that right at the edge of the water were thousands of live sand dollars. Something so amazing that I can’t even describe them. And I played with them and searched the beach… the irony of them is that for as many live ones there were just as many dead ones, washed ashore and broken. Growing up I always believed that each sand dollar represented a broken heart. And there I was, with mine breaking more and more every minute finding tons of broken hearts washed up on the beach, and a few whole ones (which if you have ever searched for sand dollars know that those are really rare. )And I took it as a sign…
Since then I have researched Sand Dollars. I found out that they have a huge meaning in Catholicism and actually are the symbol for love, hope, and rebirth. And I thought that someone was trying to tell me something… in the end I’ve realized that they really are just sand dollars. Just live animals that got washed up due to an incoming storm off Mexico. They aren’t any higher being trying to tell me something. Because as much as I believe in signs, what would the universe be telling me. To not give up hope? That’s what my girls had been telling me this past month. That my broken heart will heal, even in my most dramatic state I know that it will. That something better will come? Doesn’t it always… That this is a chance to once again start over… sure that sounds nice. But for once I’d like to not be starting over. I’ve like to not end up in tears. I’d like to not be left alone on my Saturday nights while the one that I really want to be with is out with who he actually wants to be with. I don’t know when that’s going to happen… if it ever will. I’ve always thought I’d be married and with kids at this point in my life. And I’ve finally come to realize that I’m actually really happy that I’m not. That my life is just starting and I have so many adventures out there to live… it’s just that I’d like someone to share them with. And despite all the differences that we had, despite that even some of our closest friends had a hard time seeing us together, I know deep down that he was someone that I could share my adventures with… and that is worth a lot more than a handful of sand dollars ever will.
Since then I have researched Sand Dollars. I found out that they have a huge meaning in Catholicism and actually are the symbol for love, hope, and rebirth. And I thought that someone was trying to tell me something… in the end I’ve realized that they really are just sand dollars. Just live animals that got washed up due to an incoming storm off Mexico. They aren’t any higher being trying to tell me something. Because as much as I believe in signs, what would the universe be telling me. To not give up hope? That’s what my girls had been telling me this past month. That my broken heart will heal, even in my most dramatic state I know that it will. That something better will come? Doesn’t it always… That this is a chance to once again start over… sure that sounds nice. But for once I’d like to not be starting over. I’ve like to not end up in tears. I’d like to not be left alone on my Saturday nights while the one that I really want to be with is out with who he actually wants to be with. I don’t know when that’s going to happen… if it ever will. I’ve always thought I’d be married and with kids at this point in my life. And I’ve finally come to realize that I’m actually really happy that I’m not. That my life is just starting and I have so many adventures out there to live… it’s just that I’d like someone to share them with. And despite all the differences that we had, despite that even some of our closest friends had a hard time seeing us together, I know deep down that he was someone that I could share my adventures with… and that is worth a lot more than a handful of sand dollars ever will.
No comments:
Post a Comment