Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow
Dear Paul:
I know you never thought you would hear from me again. But as I swirl around the warm blue waters of the Pacific Ocean, I just had to say one final goodbye. I know that our parting was a little difficult for you, but I want to assure you that I served my purpose.
I remember back in March when Melina, that wonderful tour organizer of yours, was shopping for keepsake gifts for you and all of your traveling buddies near the end of your stay in Bali. She spotted me, an unassuming brown hemp bracelet thingy with two ornamental brown beads, and just knew I was meant for your wrist.
Oh Paul, I remember our first meeting so clearly. It was your final night dinner in Bali, and as I was gently secured around your wrist, I could immediately detect your happiness. I was like the icing on the cake for you--a tangible piece of Bali to take back to your life in Hawaii. A constant reminder of a trip of a lifetime, and a way to keep the vacation fumes going a bit longer. The luminescent smile on your face told the whole story. It was love at first sight.
You and I, we belonged together, Paul.
But we were never destined to be together for long. In fact, Melina advised you and your friends to leave me and my bracelet friends around your wrists until we fell off on our own. We were meant to fall off eventually, when the time was right. Even so, I could tell the prospect of our splitting up made you sad. Please know that I always enjoyed the times when you would fuss over me, and would occasionally try to tie my knot tighter in the hopes of keeping me close for as long as you could. It never worked. But I always appreciated the attempt.
Last week, I sensed something different in you. That old spark in your eyes when you looked at me was just a faint flicker now. I don't know Paul, I could just tell that you were ready to move on, to clear the space and open yourself to something new. (Besides, I know you don't like jewelry, and I figured nobody would be replacing me anytime soon.) So when you contemplated grabbing the scissors and separating us once and for all, and ignoring the rules to let me fall off on my own, well....let's just say the writing was on the wall. It was time to say goodbye.
Which is why on Memorial Day, I waited for you to go swimming, and I slipped away into the big blue ocean. I did this quietly, under the radar, so that you wouldn't even think about holding on to me. It had to be a clean break.
I anticipated your sadness when you first realized I was gone. Yet knowing you as I do after our months together, I figured you would quickly see that this was the right thing for both of us. And you did. I was just a symbol for you, Paul. A symbol of your freedom to expand and grow, and of your ability to say "yes!" to new experiences in life. I was never meant to last forever. I guess in some ways I was sort of a security blanket as you transitioned back to your daily post-vacation routine.
During our final weekend together, I watched as you cleaned your closets, tied up some loose ends and generally freed yourself from alot of the clutter that was accumulating. Most importantly, I saw how satisfied it made you to clear the space for new beginnings. You seemed lighter, and (dare I say it) almost as happy as you did when we first met. As such, I knew there was only one thing left to do. The timing was finally right to say goodbye. For both of us.
Now, every time you glance down at your bare left wrist, I want you think about the joys of life that are still to come. Imagine yourself in brand new situations, doing amazing new things, and most of all, being happy. I know you will always remember your vacation and the time we spent together. Try not to get lost in the memories though, because you don't want to miss out on making some new ones.
Just keep chugging along, Paul. Follow your heart, keep clearing space and saying yes to life. The road ahead is wide open for you. And remember, it is precisely that openness which allowed you and I to meet. So the next time you feel like closing your heart and mind to something, anything, please think of me and our time together and don't allow it to happen.
Oh, and one more thing. Perhaps another bracelet will even come along someday for you. I'm ok with that. Mostly because I know I will always be your first. And you never forget your first.
Always,
Your Brown Bali Bracelet Thingy
I know you never thought you would hear from me again. But as I swirl around the warm blue waters of the Pacific Ocean, I just had to say one final goodbye. I know that our parting was a little difficult for you, but I want to assure you that I served my purpose.
I remember back in March when Melina, that wonderful tour organizer of yours, was shopping for keepsake gifts for you and all of your traveling buddies near the end of your stay in Bali. She spotted me, an unassuming brown hemp bracelet thingy with two ornamental brown beads, and just knew I was meant for your wrist.
Oh Paul, I remember our first meeting so clearly. It was your final night dinner in Bali, and as I was gently secured around your wrist, I could immediately detect your happiness. I was like the icing on the cake for you--a tangible piece of Bali to take back to your life in Hawaii. A constant reminder of a trip of a lifetime, and a way to keep the vacation fumes going a bit longer. The luminescent smile on your face told the whole story. It was love at first sight.
You and I, we belonged together, Paul.
But we were never destined to be together for long. In fact, Melina advised you and your friends to leave me and my bracelet friends around your wrists until we fell off on our own. We were meant to fall off eventually, when the time was right. Even so, I could tell the prospect of our splitting up made you sad. Please know that I always enjoyed the times when you would fuss over me, and would occasionally try to tie my knot tighter in the hopes of keeping me close for as long as you could. It never worked. But I always appreciated the attempt.
Last week, I sensed something different in you. That old spark in your eyes when you looked at me was just a faint flicker now. I don't know Paul, I could just tell that you were ready to move on, to clear the space and open yourself to something new. (Besides, I know you don't like jewelry, and I figured nobody would be replacing me anytime soon.) So when you contemplated grabbing the scissors and separating us once and for all, and ignoring the rules to let me fall off on my own, well....let's just say the writing was on the wall. It was time to say goodbye.
Which is why on Memorial Day, I waited for you to go swimming, and I slipped away into the big blue ocean. I did this quietly, under the radar, so that you wouldn't even think about holding on to me. It had to be a clean break.
I anticipated your sadness when you first realized I was gone. Yet knowing you as I do after our months together, I figured you would quickly see that this was the right thing for both of us. And you did. I was just a symbol for you, Paul. A symbol of your freedom to expand and grow, and of your ability to say "yes!" to new experiences in life. I was never meant to last forever. I guess in some ways I was sort of a security blanket as you transitioned back to your daily post-vacation routine.
During our final weekend together, I watched as you cleaned your closets, tied up some loose ends and generally freed yourself from alot of the clutter that was accumulating. Most importantly, I saw how satisfied it made you to clear the space for new beginnings. You seemed lighter, and (dare I say it) almost as happy as you did when we first met. As such, I knew there was only one thing left to do. The timing was finally right to say goodbye. For both of us.
Now, every time you glance down at your bare left wrist, I want you think about the joys of life that are still to come. Imagine yourself in brand new situations, doing amazing new things, and most of all, being happy. I know you will always remember your vacation and the time we spent together. Try not to get lost in the memories though, because you don't want to miss out on making some new ones.
Just keep chugging along, Paul. Follow your heart, keep clearing space and saying yes to life. The road ahead is wide open for you. And remember, it is precisely that openness which allowed you and I to meet. So the next time you feel like closing your heart and mind to something, anything, please think of me and our time together and don't allow it to happen.
Oh, and one more thing. Perhaps another bracelet will even come along someday for you. I'm ok with that. Mostly because I know I will always be your first. And you never forget your first.
Always,
Your Brown Bali Bracelet Thingy
Comments
Keep writing, even if its in the sand...
-Island Woman
Thanks!
-B