MaxTalks

Hidden among packed city streets are the traces of structures no longer standing. Where sudden gaps appear between densely packed buildings, brick walls are exposed with the outline of a roof or chimney embedded like an abstract mural. These are ghost buildings – the consequence of limited space forcing two buildings to share the same wall. When one of the buildings is torn down, the shared wall stays and so do the building’s last remaining bricks. They’re just buildings, I know that, but since my last relationship ended, I feel like they’re haunting me. I used to love finding them, but now their weathered bricks spell out a story of loss and lingering. Even when something’s gone, part of it always stays behind. 

For me, relationships have always been a shared wall. When I get close to another person, I begin to structure my life around them. I see which pieces fit, which don’t, and before even realizing, I find them becoming an important part of myself. It seems logical to me in the moment. A natural thing for people to do. But when relationships end, I have no clue what I’m supposed to do with all that’s left behind. I can return t-shirts and books, but I can’t give back memories of time spent together. I still have their mannerisms and silly dance moves, but I can’t unlearn how to properly cut a tomato. I know everything from their love language to their entire dating history, but what good does that do now?

Do I write it all down in a letter for somebody somewhere to make use of one day? That’s probably not going to happen.

Am I supposed to forget it all? That’s definitely not going to happen.

Was it all a mistake?

The thing is, ghost buildings aren’t created by accident. The demolition crews leave the bricks because they are structurally important. The other building wouldn’t stand without them. When I think of the bricks left behind after my relationship, maybe they aren’t so trivial after all. Since we last talked, I have cut many tomatoes. I have thrown together dance routines sprinkled with her moves, and I have heard friends’ dating experiences and understood them more intimately because of what she shared.

I can’t see it now, but as time passes, I’ll discover purposes for the other bricks as well. The next time I’m walking down a crowded city street and look up to see the outline of an old building, I don’t think it’ll be as sad. I won’t be reminded by what I lost, but the things I continue to gain.