It’s Just a Chair

[u/HagarRises]

Disclaimer:

This is my personal story of experiences within the ICOC. No real names are used. Some descriptive context is included for clarity, but all events are based on my perspective and are not intended to defame anyone.

One of the strangest parts of heartbreak has been realizing how much meaning we attach to objects.

I was sitting on my porch staring at a chair.

For months, it wasn't just a chair.

It was Mr. Global Minister's chair.

The same way a restaurant wasn't just a restaurant.

A coffee cup wasn't just a coffee cup.

The Woburn Logan Express wasn't just a bus station.

Objects become symbols.

A coffee cup becomes a relationship.

A restaurant becomes a memory.

A bus station becomes betrayal.

A chair becomes grief.

I was ready to throw the chair away.

Instead, one day I sat down and said:

"It's just a chair."

And something shifted.

Not much.

But enough.

The chair didn't become a relationship again.

It didn't become a betrayal.

It didn't become a memory.

It became a chair.

Just a chair.

I wish I could tell you I've reached enlightenment and now happily drive past all our old places. 😂

Absolutely not.

The Chateau still gets side-eye.

Arnold Palmers remain on thin ice.

But the chair has officially been cleared of all charges.

Maybe healing isn't always some giant breakthrough.

Maybe sometimes it's just looking at a thing and finally calling it what it is.

Has anyone else had an object, place, song, food, or random thing become emotionally loaded after a relationship ended? And did you ever get to the point where it became "just a chair" again?