I’m stood in her kitchen. UB40’s “Don’t Break My Heart” plays from her laptop.
“Please be careful,
Not to break it,
Just remember it’s the only one I’ve got,
It’s the only one I’ve got
Don’t break my heart”
Ironic. I was making us dinner. We broke up about 40 minutes ago; i mean, she originally told me she wasn’t feeling great about our dynamic whilst she was at home for Christmas, in Ghana, where she was born and raised, but we just had thee conversation, the one where you go over all the insecurities of why. Why did we break up? Was it something I did? Was there something I could’ve done better? It was over now, and we were left with the settled heartbreak.
Me & her met about 2 months ago. Immediately, I fell in love. I like to think she did too. I’d never met anyone as perfect, I knew from our first date that this wasn’t just a date. She knows all of this, don’t worry, I told her (unfortunately, after we broke up), so I don’t mind if she’s reading this right now, and I don’t mind if all of you know it either.
When she originally told me about her doubts, I had one original thought. One that I didn’t expect, one that surprised me. I texted her; “Can I still give you the present I got you for Christmas?”. She’d got me something too.
So I cooked, we ate, and we traded presents. I got her a copy of my favourite book; James Baldwin’s “If Beale Street Could Talk”, annotated with colour coded tabs (pretty proud of that one). She got me a bead bracelet that she brought from Ghana. Whether she ever read the book, or the annotations for that matter, and whether I ever wore that bracelet doesn’t matter; it was just a moment of solace within a sea of other.
Then it was over. I left, and we were over. Sitting here now, I can tell you it wasn’t coming back. I was heartbroken.
A couple months later, as I was getting over things, I began to get ready to move out. Looking through my closet, I found a small plastic wallet. Inside, the bracelet, along with two polaroids. We took five, but she kept three of them. As I found them, along with feeling a slight sting of pain, a wave of memories washed over me. The night we took the polaroids; a night in December when England played Senegal in the World Cup. Then, I became troubled. Should I keep these? Will that do me good? Am I allowed to keep these?
People, whether in real life or online, always say, after a breakup, to get rid of everything. Anything they gave you, anything you shared, anything that reminds you of them. Destroy it and never look back. I think I disagree.
I found those photos, I found that bracelet and, sure, the pain came back - but it came back because of the beautiful memories I experienced. I remembered the night we took those polaroids, the day we spent together before that, I remembered all the times we spent that were good. Then, I remembered the bad, and that sticks with you more.
Michel Gondry’s “Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind” offers the perfect remedy to a breakup; a company that’ll delete someone from your mind. They’ll erase all your memories with that human, as if they never existed. But, then it asks if that’s a good thing; sure, you will get rid of the bad, but you’ll be robbing yourself of the good. And not only the good, but the growth and experience that came with the bad.
At the end of the film, (spoilers from 2004!) the couple we’ve spent time with find out they’ve both deleted the other from the memories at least once in the past. They argue, with Clementine (Winslet’s character) making the point that none of it is worth it because eventually Joel (Carrey’s character) will find things wrong with her and she will get bored and feel trapped. The relationship is doomed, and will end.
Joel responds; “So?”
It took me a while to get over [redacted]. I thought about the bad for a long time. I wouldn’t change it for the world.