The other day I was cleaning out a bookshelf and hauling all his books to sell at the second-hand book store in town. He didn’t read much, by the way. But along with selling some of his old vinyl records, I paid for dinner. š
Tucked back in the shelf, I found his little book of business cards. Cards from his co-workers, business associates, and some old ones that I know those people had moved on to other things.
Some of the cards were passive aggressive note cards that I remember seeing when we first got married. They were things a person might leave on another person’s car for parking badly. They were all mean insults. He’d thought they were funny.
I should’ve seen that as a red flag. I should’ve seen lots of red flags, but hindsight doesn’t do much but make us feel bad that we missed all the signs to run.
One of the parking ones had a note scrawled in his handwriting that said, “If you want to bitch about this, call…” and a phone number I didn’t recognize. The cards were from the before we married, and I’m fairly certain he didn’t use them after we met. But I don’t know that for sure. There were a lot of those parking ones.
Why did he keep them all those years? I know he updated the book of cards from time to time. I have no idea why he held onto them like souvenirs.
The only thing I have left of them is the photo in this post. As I’ve said before, my house isn’t a shrine. There is no need to keep the kind of negative energy that those cards invoked.
There is no need to keep anything left behind that doesn’t have a purpose or positive energy. Reclaim your space, your home.
