Taexalia

wild.life

Museum of Broken Relationships

Well I'm up and about early today ~ as usual the pre-6am-outdoor-shoe-clad-wanderings of the man upstairs on his laminate wood flooring have roused me unceremoniously from the land of nod. Often I wait it out until he leaves for work and then get some more kip, but today I am excited as I have a friend arriving from across the pond via Berlin! Yay! And my sister is sleeping on the sofa-bed :)

Yesterday I had a mild moment of panic because despite all my clutter clearing, I still seemed to be drowned in cobwebs. I say mild, I don't think Himself would agree with that value judgement. Of course I realise that neither my sister nor my friend are interested in whether I dusted the top of a lampshade, and it's just a great chance for my predator to whisper in my brain "failure".

On the subject of failure, the news story I looked at today is about a travelling exhibition that is hot in Berlin ~ The Museum of Broken Relationships. Apparently when it arrives it "asks people in the cities it visits to donate mementos of everything from short flings to painful divorces.", and for some reason I find this a little intriguing. I wonder what sort of objects they have on display - apart from the ubiquitous wedding dress. I like the bicycle that was the vehicle of departure for one person.

Now, I have a whole range of failed relationships to choose from but I'm not sure what object I would choose to donate and the idea springs to mind that I could just collect up several of the past offenders and put them in a cage. I was exceptionally talented at choosing mr wrong again and again and again and I began to think, especially after the last traumatic debacle, that I was just not meant to be with people - yes by that time I was so eroded that I had expanded it out from just relationships to *everyone*.

Luckily this lapse into deep self pity and loathing was over after a couple of weeks and I can now confirm that I am in fact capable of mixing with other humans, one of them has even lived with me for five years. I must have fixed my Picker.

But I digress, what about my Museum of Broken Relationships?

Oh crap in the early morning darkness I look back over time and think "I don't have any objects because I turfed them all, but the unhappy memories abound." Is that healthy? I mean it's not like they abound unbidden, nor do I consider them on a very regular basis. I appreciate what I have now because of them and so my exhibit could be a glass bowl with a rose for every one. I haven't decided whether the rose heads should be withered and dried up, or full and red and glowing as a token of remembering what was good about each one before reality kicked in. How sweet.

Oh wait, now I remember that I do have one item in my possession ~ a 3 CD box set of Prince's Hits. The bloke had originally bought me a CD that wouldn't play and, having exchanged it for two replacements that also didn't play, had decided to give up on that title and choose the Prince Box Set. During the dissolving of our thing-that-was-touted-as-true-love, he demanded that I return half of it (there are 3 CDs in the box) because I had gotten a box set instead of a single CD and so my birthday present was actually for both of us. Do you think I was an unreasonable bitch because I kept the whole thing and didn't break it in half?

So that would be my token of broken - and there's probably a song on there for every time my heart ran away from my brain.

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Posted on October 25, 2007 in Memories, Wordy.

One Response to “Museum of Broken Relationships”

  1. tammy vitale says:
    October 28, 2007 at 2:01 am

    omg you’re posting again! and I don’t have time to read thru….well, I’ll just have to stop in again (and again) until I catch up!

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