Dear Vintage Style Beautiful Green Tweed Pumps,
I’m afraid this is good bye. I never intended to part like this, if ever at all but sadly, I suppose all good things must come to an end and seeing as my toes now press uncomfortably against you, this is the end. A sad and tragic parting of what was once a beautiful relationship.
It’s not you, it’s me. Things change, people change, feet change. Particularly after pregnancy. I was warned but I didn’t heed the advice of all those naysayers telling me it wouldn’t work, that my feet would probably get bigger and be too much for you to handle. My feet are now bigger than you and I know you don’t mean to but you’re hurting me, stifling me and crowding my freedom to run and dance. You can’t help it, it’s just the way you are. So it’s over, we’re done. I’m so sorry, you just can’t stop change. And I’ve changed but you haven’t.
We had 7 good years, the first 4 were really great and you and I went through a lot together: office drama, fundraising dinners, date nights at cute little bistros, so many memories. I will never forget spotting you in that chic little boutique consignment shop in Montrose. Love at first sight. Adorable and vintage, you seduced me with a great price and classic style. I pictured myself the crisp librarian type, coquette and studiously fun. Flirting with you for a while I knew almost instantly you’d be coming home with me. Even though it was obvious that you had a few flaws and would be inflexible to a fault perhaps in your structure, it all just added to your charm. So I brought you home and our love affair began. How I loved you. It became clear over time that we couldn’t shop together, that always ended in disaster and dancing was such drama from you that I always made sure to choose a different partner. But we made it work. Compromise was the name of the game, I knew your strengths and weaknesses and you knew mine. Eventually though, specially after baby #4, we just started growing apart. I admit it, I used you only for work, to get something done. If I wanted fun I reached for another pair, never you. I’m sorry, it was just that I couldn’t enjoy myself with you like I once could. Flip flops understand casual, sneakers know what I need for support, and strappy sandals totally get being cool and having a good time.
I tried to make it work even when we both had to admit things were awkward and uncomfortable when we were together. Really, I tried. It just didn’t work. Then came totally sexy, amazing killer heels and I just stopped trying. I know that is what killed us. But I couldn’t help it, they are a full size bigger and were $2 at a yard sale and made my heart go pitter-patter. How can you compete with those curves? That height? The alluring toe cleavage? That bling? Call me a cheap hussy, fine, but I have to be true to myself. I’m in love even if I know they aren’t good for me. Today I went out with you for nostalgia’s sake but it was then that I realized we really are over. I’m sorry.
You’ll get over it, you’ll move on, I know you’ll be fine. There happens to be an 11 year old I know that I think could be ready for her first real relationship with an amazing pair of shoes. We’ll get to see each other once in a while, I hope we can still be friends. You will always hold a special place in my heart.