History

Clearly, at this age we all have a little history and the baggage that comes with it.

This has been on my mind today because when S moved in he brought a lot of stuff. Not just clothes and such, but a huge bag of pictures.

I'd told him earlier in the week that I wanted to look at them sometime. His response,

"Go to town, baby."

So, last night after he left for work I pulled out a plastic bin (like the kind you're supposed to store shoes neatly in - HA!) and started going through his pictures.

I don't know the chronology on any of them, but I figured organizing them by size was better than them sitting in a plastic grocery bag.

It took me a few hours to go through them all and in the process I found pictures of one S's exes. THE ex.

We all have one, you know, the one that broke your heart into a million billion bits and then walked all over them on his or her way out the door.

And, it made me sad.

Sad because I know he loved her and it kills me that someone would take S's heart and break it into a million billion bits.

I was looking at pictures of the two of them, candids of her, thinking, "I wish S wouldn't have been so beaten down by that relationship. I really wish things would have been better for them."

Then I realized, "Fuck that!"

I wish his heart hadn't been broken just as much as I wish my heart had never been broken, but then who would we be today?

Would we even be together?

All the bad exes, the cheaters, the liars, the schemers . . . they have all led us to where we are today.

Sometimes I look at S and think, "Mayn, am I a lucky girl," and I think sometimes I see that reflected in his eyes (except for him thinking he's a lucky girl and all) and I realize we deserve each other.

For all the bullshit we have been through with our exes we are finally cashing in on our kharma.

Do I expect him to throw out the pictures?

Nah, all of that is part of his past.

I'm his present.

And, hopefully, his future.