“So, we’re doing that now?” I said to a friend, pointing to a section of Hallmark cards at the post office labeled Troubled Relationships.
“I guess so.”
We began picking up the cards and examining them.
“I wonder who had to decide where to place the Troubled Relationship section on the shelf.” The placement of a section like this could say a lot. For instance, if it went between the Wedding and Anniversary cards, that would imply “We had trouble, but we worked it out.” Or if they were just sort of sprinkled throughout all the sections, it might indicate a roller-coaster relationship.
This section was nestled between the Devoted Love and Friendship cards, which made me feel pretty sure about how the placer of the cards’ last relationship trajectory went.
“These are cheesy,” my friend pointed out.
She was right, of course. They were full of longing to go back to how things used to be, and sorrow for hurting one another and things like that. But they were also words that sounded a whole lot like the ones in my own not-so-distant email archives.
“Do you think anyone really thinks a Troubled Relationship card could work?” my friend continued musing–right at the moment where I was wondering if a card like this might have worked for my previous relationship. Granted, my last relationship had gone from Devoted Love to Troubled to Well, It’s Over within the span of about forty-eight hours, so I’m not sure I would have had time. It always takes me forever to pick out a card.
“I don’t know if it would work. But I kind of like that there’s a section for it. It makes the whole thing seem sort of universal–like some natural part of life, you know? It’s kinda comforting to think that so many people experience trouble, and support one another through it, and make it to the other side. It’s that whole human experience thing, you know?”
“Maybe you should write these cards, Cheeseball.”
“Well, I don’t know about writing one to the other party in the relationship. My track record isn’t terribly successful in that department. But I could write a Well, It’s Over card–for a person whose relationship just ended. In fact, I can think of a whole series. They’d say: “It’s hurts, but at least there’s…” and then there’d be one version that says something like “at least there’s pepperoni pizza” or “The World Cup” or maybe just a blank where you could write in something personal for the person–like their favorite book. “It hurts, but at least there’s One Hundred Years of Solitude.”
“Or maybe a differently-titled book.”
“Well, that’s just the one I’m reading right now. Anyway, then,” I continued, “I would rearrange the section order. My own Troubled Relationship section would, obviously, be after the Congratulations on Getting into Grad School section–if there is such a thing… (there’s not). And it would go before the Well, It’s Over cards.
“And then after that?”
“After ‘at least there’s One Hundred Years of Solitude…’ well. I think, after that, I put the To-Do List Stationery.”
May I make a suggestion for your To-Do list? Leave the Post Office and get some pepperoni pizza. Your inspirational speech made me hungry.”
Check.
