Leggings - c/o Romwe, Shirt - vintage, Jacket - Vintage, Choker - eBay, Boots - vintage Steve Madden via Buffalo Exchange, Hairclips - eBay, Sunglasses - Santee Alley (knockoff Karen Walkers)
My boyfriend and I broke up last month. Despite the fact that it was in both of our best interest, it's still hard to say goodbye to someone, especially someone with whom you've been living for three years, and with whom you've been sharing your life in some capacity for eight. It was strange, at first, looking around my apartment, with all of his things gone. My apartment now, not ours. It didn't sound right to say.
My family and friends reminded me that the breakup wasn't bad, just different. "Changes can be good," they said. And I knew they were right, but still it was hard.
Some changes were more immediately positive than others. My apartment seemed huge. The closet space! Some were harder to get used to. I miss his dog. I miss hearing someone play piano or guitar around the house. I miss 10pm boba runs in pajamas.
Blogging has been strange since we separated. It was something we did together, snapping photos while we took the dogs on walks. I was depressed when I first moved to Los Angeles from San Francisco. The city seemed so vacant, so ugly, so dull. My heart broke over San Francisco; I had lost my home. It was hard to make LA friends at first. I didn't have the same interests as everyone here, it seemed -- starstruck party kids who chased cocaine and received rent checks from wealthy parents in nearby suburbs. I couldn't talk about XKCD with these people. They didn't know who Douglas Adams was.
"I want to start a fashion blog," I told my boyfriend one day. "I think it would help me break out of my depression, give me some sense of purpose, or a way of connecting with like-minded people." He bought a camera, almost instantly. He tried to make me less awkward in front of the lens. He was patient when it overwhelmed me.
When he left, he took most of his things with him, the camera included. I didn't get a new one right away. It seemed too permanent, somehow. Like I was replacing him.
But living in the past is no way to live. And slowly, my life has become my own again. Some people can never be completely removed from you. A part of them will always be stuck somewhere in the back of your mind, like the melody of a song you played on repeat one too many times. You can recall it with fondness or nostalgia or a smile, but when it comes on the radio, it won't move you to the core like it once did. Some breakups are like that, I think. You just grow out of a good thing, and you know that it's time to move on.
So, on Saturday, I bought a new camera. It's an old camera, really -- something from the "for sale" section of Craigslist. It doesn't have the bells and whistles that my ex-boyfriend's did, and the pictures aren't quite as nice. But it's mine. And I think it represents something...about new chapters or moving on or maybe even about knowing what you need and what suits you.
And this here is its debut on my blog. I'm looking forward to many more photos from this little buddy, and many more ways in which my life can move forward from now on.