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I’m posting two photos, each of three “conversation dice.” You can use either of the photos, and create a piece that incorporates the three elements. You do not have to use the words. But do use the ideas/thoughts in the three dice together—somehow—in the piece.
Tomorrow it will be one year since you bought me an Almond Milk latte from Starbucks. I know this because the label stuck to the cup shows the date: March 11, 2021. It also shows the time you spent about $4.00 on me was 3:02PM. That must mean I met you at about 2: 51PM that afternoon – just before the order was placed - when you walked up to me at the outside table and awkwardly deciding to take off your face mask, said “ Hi, what kind of coffee would you like?”
Since then, that paper cup has sat on the top shelf in my office, inside a quiet flowered box. Once in a while I will sneak a look at it. No mold has ever grown inside it thankfully, though there is a swirl of dark dry brown circling the inside. Somewhere on the outside are your fingerprints - and mine. DNA forever linked. A clue in a crime scene, if there had ever been one. Or in this case, a small imprint or remnant of a love affair.
I saved it all this time because I knew it meant something when I met you. I also saved something else…the cover from a personalized packet of vitamins and medicine that you take. That is folded and hidden in the velvet drawer of my jewelry box. It is a small white, plastic packet with your name preprinted on it in black type. It was ripped open and the contents perhaps swallowed. I found it in the garbage can in your bathroom when I washed my hands there once.
One year later we still talk sometimes. But we grew apart because of your travels and because of the sea of trouble you found yourself in. Also because of the shifting sand of my own situation. But we always come back. We have a curiosity about each other. Nothing is resolved. The chords of connection are still there…just on pause. To be determined. No plan.
Yes, I took small things. To hold onto. To hide. To look at once in awhile and to wonder. To prove to myself that something did happen. That I did know you. That there was something there. But in the end, and over time, will the souvenirs I covet turn out to be garbage?
Mar 10, 2022·edited Mar 10, 2022Liked by Alison Acheson
There I was, as usual, sitting in my bed, in front of my t.v. flipping through shows and apps, trying to find something to put on to distract me from everything. Distraction from things I should be doing but can't because of my depression, distraction from my guilty thoughts, distraction from wanting to just crawl under the covers and sleep all day. But I've been doing that too much and it was getting more difficult to keep up. I had to force myself to stay awake long enough to get tired. Even though I didn't even leave my bedroom, it was as if I was a fixture in there, like my lamp, only even less useful. It was when I flipped over to YouTube to watch video's that my life started to change, though I didn't know it yet. I happened to see a video for this therapist talking about narcissistic parents and I thought, "maybe I'd be able to understand my mother more if I watch it". I was hooked right away. He just had a way of explaining things like nobody else I'd ever seen on any platform. I started to watch his other videos about family dynamics that create certain trauma's and he used diagrams, examples and role playing. He also, and this is key, he also explained how you do the work to heal from it! I suddenly felt like I had some power back in my life. I knew I didn't have all the answers but I took that leap of faith that now I was on the right track to get the right help, to find a therapist like HIM that could continue to help me move past my traumas and heal from my depression. I could finally go take a shower and plan what to do next.
I want conversation dice 🎲
Souvenirs
Tomorrow it will be one year since you bought me an Almond Milk latte from Starbucks. I know this because the label stuck to the cup shows the date: March 11, 2021. It also shows the time you spent about $4.00 on me was 3:02PM. That must mean I met you at about 2: 51PM that afternoon – just before the order was placed - when you walked up to me at the outside table and awkwardly deciding to take off your face mask, said “ Hi, what kind of coffee would you like?”
Since then, that paper cup has sat on the top shelf in my office, inside a quiet flowered box. Once in a while I will sneak a look at it. No mold has ever grown inside it thankfully, though there is a swirl of dark dry brown circling the inside. Somewhere on the outside are your fingerprints - and mine. DNA forever linked. A clue in a crime scene, if there had ever been one. Or in this case, a small imprint or remnant of a love affair.
I saved it all this time because I knew it meant something when I met you. I also saved something else…the cover from a personalized packet of vitamins and medicine that you take. That is folded and hidden in the velvet drawer of my jewelry box. It is a small white, plastic packet with your name preprinted on it in black type. It was ripped open and the contents perhaps swallowed. I found it in the garbage can in your bathroom when I washed my hands there once.
One year later we still talk sometimes. But we grew apart because of your travels and because of the sea of trouble you found yourself in. Also because of the shifting sand of my own situation. But we always come back. We have a curiosity about each other. Nothing is resolved. The chords of connection are still there…just on pause. To be determined. No plan.
Yes, I took small things. To hold onto. To hide. To look at once in awhile and to wonder. To prove to myself that something did happen. That I did know you. That there was something there. But in the end, and over time, will the souvenirs I covet turn out to be garbage?
There I was, as usual, sitting in my bed, in front of my t.v. flipping through shows and apps, trying to find something to put on to distract me from everything. Distraction from things I should be doing but can't because of my depression, distraction from my guilty thoughts, distraction from wanting to just crawl under the covers and sleep all day. But I've been doing that too much and it was getting more difficult to keep up. I had to force myself to stay awake long enough to get tired. Even though I didn't even leave my bedroom, it was as if I was a fixture in there, like my lamp, only even less useful. It was when I flipped over to YouTube to watch video's that my life started to change, though I didn't know it yet. I happened to see a video for this therapist talking about narcissistic parents and I thought, "maybe I'd be able to understand my mother more if I watch it". I was hooked right away. He just had a way of explaining things like nobody else I'd ever seen on any platform. I started to watch his other videos about family dynamics that create certain trauma's and he used diagrams, examples and role playing. He also, and this is key, he also explained how you do the work to heal from it! I suddenly felt like I had some power back in my life. I knew I didn't have all the answers but I took that leap of faith that now I was on the right track to get the right help, to find a therapist like HIM that could continue to help me move past my traumas and heal from my depression. I could finally go take a shower and plan what to do next.