One of the leftovers from the breakup is The Sofa.
I use caps because it is a thing.
A particular thing.
A thorn-in-my-side thing.
This is The Sofa, in situ.
I have never liked The Sofa. From the first time I went to the Ex’ condo, I didn’t like it. He had good taste in many things; but not The Sofa.
The Sofa is large, deep, conventional in design, and beige.
I am not a fan of beige.
Or conventional design.
Especially when it involves metal studs on beige upholstery.
The Sofa’s seat cushions are shockingly heavy, as if filled with very dense foam and buckshot. Worse, though, the back pillows are attached. Unremoveable. A spectacularly bad idea. How can anyone get them fluffed/shaped right that way? Answer: they can’t. I’ve used fists, a bat, everything I could think of and never could get them right.
The Sofa mocked my attempts.
The Sofa has surprisingly low feet. As Douglas Adams might have said, they are precisely of the height to have everything that falls bounce out of reach under The Sofa, but far too low to be able to get a broom or mop there to fetch the items lost.
The Sofa is, also, surprisingly uncomfortable. Sure, it seems cushy and supportive, but that is just to lull you in. In reality, it causes physical pain. The depth of the seating makes it impossible to sit on like a normal sofa, with your back on the back and your feet on the ground. You must stack pillows behind your back to get close. Whatever you try, your back will let you know how wrong your posture is in no time.
When we bought the house, we moved The Sofa from the condo, with us. It always felt too large for the house’s space. I mean, it fit (see above), but overwhelmed the living room with its beigeness and bulk. And improperly fluffed pillows.
The Ex and I looked for replacement sofas a few times. We could never agree on any. Cost, design, whatever… we just never could settle on one. I think he was insulted I didn’t like The Sofa and held it as a bit of a grudge. Even though he admitted the problems with The Sofa, he defended his purchase as though it was a personal attack to dislike the object: he spent a lot of money on The Sofa; it was made by a reputable company; the attached cushions were a good idea at the time…
Whatever, our inability to replace it was a thing and, arguably, a sign.
When the Ex left, surprisingly to me, he left The Sofa. He had his stated reasons. I think there were others, unsaid. I like to tell myself none of them were about me but, really, only he knows. I only know I wanted him to take the damn thing. He didn’t.
Of course, as in any cohabitational breakup, the divvying up of stuff meant I had to buy a lot of things to replace those that went with him. Some things were more urgently needed, not just wanted; replacing The Sofa was back-burnered to economize. I told myself I could live with it. Better a bad Sofa than none.
I have rued that choice. In fact, since he left just over six months ago, every time I have plopped down to watch TV I have been reminded how uncomfortable The Sofa is. And of him. My back has ached, as did my heart. I groaned every time I stood up from sitting on it and which pain caused that, I’m not so sure. It was a far greater symbol of him and the us that no longer was than I knew, or wanted to admit.
This morning, it has come to an end. Our lovely neighborhood junk hauler man, his wife, and I hefted that thing out of the house and down the front stairs to his truck. It weighed a ton, even without being a sleeper; but I squat-lifted one end like someone much younger than my 60.5 years. I owe thanks to the Canadian whose workouts I have been doing; but I think my strength was mostly fueled by the deep desire to get the thing out.
Now, it is gone.
I paid the hauler more than he asked to remove it; it meant that much to get it out.
I have since swept and mopped the floor, and wiped down the baseboards and wall, in large part to purge the space.
I may even burn some sage, just to be on the safe side, especially since I kept The Sofa’s two beige throw pillows. They were the only thing that didn’t suck about The Sofa, except for their color, which does suck.
But I will re-cover them in a brighter color (blue!) and use them on my new, smaller, simpler orange sofa, delivered later today.