Compromise

This morning I got up unusually early and decided to devote my day to fixing and organizing my stuff at the store. Generally, as designer's do, I keep all my sketches sprawled over the desk, designs everywhere, clothing here and there, but in the chaos there is order. Nonetheless, I decided to organize all the papers I might have. I prefer to have a database in my computer and have all the information there. I am, after all, a computer freak, aka, a nerd.

Anyways, I set out to put some things in order. I started with the random pieces of cloths everywhere, organized the clothing and then I reached my desk. I organized receipts, placed item orders inside a file, and basically spent time doing an inventary of what I did and did not have.

Among the papers I found there were random sketches where I drew a beautiful dress and in the top of the page I'd write "wear this for Christian" and a little heart next to his name. I stared at the two or three pieces of work where that happened and eventually crumpled them up and threw them in the trash can. Those were designs of a time that would not repeat itself, and it should stay where it belonged: the past. I found many things like these, simple gestures like cookie recipes that I had to try out for him that I was sure he would enjoy. I found some of the receipts from baskets I'd bought to decorate and give to him. I even went so far as to finding pretty ideas for dinner and romance tips.

I took ALL of it, threw it in the trash can and then, taking care not to do a mess, turned on a match and set it on fire. I sat in front of the burning material for some minutes, maybe mourning what would never happy, thinking that maybe it was all too much and too little really happened, thinking that maybe I shouldn't have done this or that or whatever. I still felt slightly heart broken, but the smell of burning paper reminded me that whatever had happened, had happened and period. It was long gone.

I wasn't that sad anymore. In fact, I was feeling slightly hopeful that one day I would really look back and shake my head at all of this smiling. Maybe I WAS too intense, maybe my insecurities got the best of me, maybe I still needed to learn how to balance my own feelings. I had to stop going to extremes, I had to stop being so sensible about everything, I had to grow up so much more and become someone that would be able to cope without feeling like her world was coming down. This is who Lucille Delton was, a slight mess with the hopes of becoming something so much bigger than what she gave herself credit for.

As the fire extinguished I felt confident that I no longer had to hold on to what might have been, but I could perfectly create a better will be.

I eventually finished doing all I had to do and turned off the lights. No more regrets... I would pull through, I could... I would believe in myself.