if i try to explain it to you, it won’t make sense. not like it does to me. to us. but believe me when i tell you, it was all about the shoes.
the room was huge. there was just so much concrete. i had to cross this vast open slab every day, countless times. and more often than not, i wore these pretty little shoes. the ones with the flower. the ones that made me feel like alice and i called my party shoes. i never wore them to a party, now that i think of it. but they were my fancy shoes. and i don’t do fancy often or well.
so there was the room and i was walking. and walking. and walking. and standing. lots of standing. and every day i thought out loud, why the hell am i torturing myself? but i knew the answer. i wanted to look fancy. i was in switzerland for the first time and i had on a skirt or dress pants that are too long to not wear heels, so i had to. after all, i was about to meet jamie lee curtis and jane goodall. i had to look good. fancy.
thank god i wore the shoes.
it’s how we started talking, really. all my complaining about my feet hurting and his reaction (wear comfortable shoes, woman) and then the long walks i would make (out of my way, even) to walk slowly past where he sat at the back of the hall, behind the (also fancy) light board where he made the stage light up and look pretty and stuff. i would walk and walk and walk and hope and hope he’d look over so i could smile or stop by to talk. it was silly fun at the time. but it was making me wonder.
and it was making me do other things, too. things like break my own rules of NEVER turning on my phone so as to not have international charges pile up. but not only did i turn on my phone, i texted him. i texted him enough times that it cost me about an extra $20 on my next phone bill. i texted to find him out at night. i texted him to see if he was meeting up with me and my friends. i texted him when i lost my passport. i texted him goodbye.
i met the most incredible man and he told me take off my heels. he told me to wear comfortable shoes. and after that first time he said it, i packed my black chucks in my backpack every day, and when i thought nobody was looking, i put them on to relieve the pain. but just for a bit because i kept tripping over my pants.
needless to say, i have never, ever loved a pair of shoes as much as i love those party shoes with the flower. not even my chucks compare.
and that’s saying a lot from this not-so-fancy girl.