You're the first to hear it. It's over. It's been a long time brewing, but finally, officially, we've called it quits. It's been so hard to do, but really, I think it's best for all of us. Family life was flailing, it was a terrible strain, and finally we've decided there's really no commitment there. It was a short fling. Coming up to Christmas makes it even harder but it was something that needed to be done, instead of dragging it out. We've decided to go our separate ways.
The bin and I are over.
I forgot to mention that the bin's house is on the market. Yep, all 6 bedrooms and 6 bathrooms of it.
Needless to say, the bin is moving on to greener pastures. But really, we all know I initiated the split. It came a week ago when I decided I just didn't want to go out and see it. I'd seen the signs, literally. The real estate agent had staked his claim on the bin's abode.
Breaking up is hard to do. But let's remember, I dumped the bin first. Not the other way around. Yep, I hold the trump card.
So last night I went out. Just for one last hoorah. I wanted to explain to the bin that 'it's not you, it's me'. Plus I thought they might as well be throwing out the family silver since they've thrown everything else out. Or maybe a nice vintage silk eiderdown jammed into the bin? Perhaps some lovely hand pieced quilt tops?
But guess what... The bin wasn't even there. Didn't even want to flirt with me. I couldn't even see it peeping out from the driveway.
I drove home. Despondent. Sad. A little shattered. When was I going to meet another bin like this one? This was like the sugar daddy of all bins. I know I play hard to get, but so does the bin, all's fair in the game of love and garbage, right?
Anyway, I just thought you'd want to know. We're over. We had some great times together. Even when the bin played the spider gag on me. I might have thought this bin was 'the one', but it wasn't to be. I know there are plenty more bins in the sea, but what if I don't find another one that's right for me?
Don't be concerned for me. I won't go cut my hair, get trollied and go dancing, spend the monthly wages on new shoes and eat chocolate 'til the cows come home. No, just a sensible step back into regular family life will do the trick.
It's sort of a relief. Now I can focus on my wonky sewing finesse. You'll see. Something good will come of it. But of course, I wanted to let you know first.
14 comments:
Oh we all know how the first love will live on in that special place in our hearts.
I always knew you were way too good for that bin. The bin's loss I say!
all bins are bastards!
No, no, no ... I want the Jane Austen ending. Girl meets bin ... girl and bin are parted ... bin and girl are reunited.
You know when the owners move in they might find and attic that needs cleaning out ....
You are an absolute crack up!!! So sad your bin is moving on, maybe another will arrive sometime soon to ease the pain....
I hear there's a council pick up day on the 19th on my street. If you want to visit Bondi on the 18th, you can tramp around with a whole street instead of just one bin!
I agree with ellieboo, you were sooo way too good for that bin xo
Can't wait to hear more about your wonky sewing adventures!
Still friends then? Those bins can be highly unpredictable, and you've just got to get it while you can!
Back to wonky sewing for me too, I'm 'perfecting' my wonk as we ....
We're all feeling the pain and shedding a few tears with you.
Oh no! I'm sad it's all over but at least you were the dumper and not the dumpee (well a bin really is a dumpee anyway isn't it?)
.and at least you did the right thing by trying to tell the bin in person, instead of on the phone - or by text...
Oh, I'm so sad it's over!!! I still think you should write a little book about the Bin Chronicles.....and hey, maybe it would be cathartic :P
It was good while it lasted. NO, it was FREAKING AMAZING while it lasted.
After break ups there is often at least one drive by, hang up call, or longing dream. You'll be okay. But the bin owners will always be soulless bastards. That stuff did not deserve the bin and you were magically called to rescue it!
I will forever be looking for my own magical giving bin now b/c of you and this story though!
He just left?? Without a word? Or even a note (scrawled on a priceless antique painting)???
Well then, that's just rude, stuff him I say.
I know you're just putting on a brave face for us, it's okay, you can weep if you need to, we'll all understand ;)
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