I had a strange moment on Thursday.
You see that hat in the picture above? I wore that hat on my first date with C, way back in 2007. Before we met he'd seen a photo of me wearing it and mocked it. In that 'I like you so I'm going to pull your pigtails' way that boys do. So of course I wore it when I went to meet him. Because girls secretly like it when boys we like mock us in that way.
After that November afternoon I couldn't find the hat. I was sad for it was my favourite hat. Over the course of our relationship I used to joke with C that he'd thrown it out, in a fit of hat envy. (I genuinely suspected he had hatnapped it though)
I looked everywhere for that hat. It was nowhere to be found. I moved on. There were other hats. But they never fulfilled me in quite the same way. My hat was lost. Somewhere along the way, in the midst of relationship worries and traumas, I lost myself too.
I found the hat on Thursday. It had fallen down the back of my chest of drawers. Seeing it gave me a strange feeling, it transported me back to a time when love was beginning to blossom. Before things got broken and confusing and crazy.
This is the photo that C saw of me, before we even met. I look like a completely different person. I barely recognise myself in this photograph. By the time our relationship ended I recognised myself even less.
It feels like everything's come full circle. I'm not lost any more. And neither is my hat.
This post was brought to you by the realisation that one year ago today was the last time C told me he loved me. It was also the first time he'd properly admitted it.
Life's a funny old game, isn't it?
