I'm very sentimental; sometimes about weird things.
Back in early 1991, I was an emotional wreck. I was still recovering mentally from my first suicide attempt (November 1, 1990), and was lonely as hell. I was seeking connection, feeling- anything (and the massive amounts of alcohol weren't doing the job!) I was dating a girl I waited on at Fridays. She was a student at Immaculata College, and was quite nice.
I decided one night that I wanted to buy a new pillow- one that was so big and soft that my head would sink into it to the point of being swallowed up. This girl came along with me as we searched the King of Prussia mall. As I knew nothing about pillows, she was very helpful. Eventually I settled on one from JC Penny's. The relationship didn't last long, but the pillow lasted.
The pillow followed me into marriage, in moves from apartment to apartment, to Baltimore, to our house, then back to Pennsylvania. Wife would steal it when we went to bed for the night, as I would steal hers, which would end up in pillow fights. My dog Nittany would sleep with her head on it during the day.
And when I was thrown out, the pillow came with me, then from place to place as I bounced between apartments. Many insomniatic nights were spent lying on that pillow, and many tears were spilled into it as my life fell apart.
Now I'm back in State College working on my PhD, and yes, the pillow is here with me. Now, the pillow is quite flat and stained by the tears, blood, and drool of thirty years. It pretty much is useless as a head support. I decided to buy a new one. I still know very little about pillows, but now there are so many types for the different ways people sleep.
So now I have a new pillow. Big deal, right? Yet, the old one and I have been through a lot- it's like part of my soul soaked into it. To others, it's a ratty old pillow, and yes, that's true. To me, it's an old friend.
Some day this week, I will take it out to the dumpster here at the apartment complex, and toss it in. After all, it's already been replaced. Would that it were so easy to dump all the Pain that I shared with it. I'll dump it as I've been dumped by so many people before and especially after transition.
Useless.
Here I am, waxing nostalgic about a pillow. This is where my life has sunk to, not like my head which has yet to find a pillow that would swallow it whole.
It's strange how a simple item in your life can be there for you to help carry you through life. I too had that favorite pillow that followed me through some of my most traumatic periods in life. Unfortunately, my spose decided while I was on a trip, to dispose of it with my permission. Her excuse was that it smelled funky to her. I mourned the loss of that pillow that accompanied me through several painful periods. It was like yours, filled with many tears, blood and sweat.
ReplyDeleteIt's funny how the lost of that pillow capped the true story of my life. Thrown away by someone that had no clue as to how much I wanted to keep it in my life.