It will get better, I know it will.
Every relationship has it’s rough spots. But you make it through, usually wiser and stronger than going in.
My shoes and I will make it through this.
I need to remember that my old shoes and I had our rough beginnings also: the aching arches, the raw toes. But once the worst was over we developed this harmonius synchronicity that exceeded all expectations. We flowed, we waltzed. Things were blissfully perfect.
For a while.
Then the relationship started to show its age. The permanent creases under the laces, the worn soles. I ignored the signs, not wanting to acknowledge the truth. We would not last forever, my shoes and I. The painful reality of this reverberated through my soul, an aching that seemed would never end.
The day the upper sprang loose from the sole I knew the inevitable had come. I examined the gash, looking for any chance of mending the evidence of time passed, but it was not to be. The gaping wound in my shoe matched the gaping wound in my heart.
For a couple minutes I agonized over the loss, wondering if I could ever share with a new pair of shoes the magic I felt with my old ones. At that moment, it seemed impossible.
Once some time had passed and the air of heart-wrenching emotion ebbed away, I realized, at long last:
Damn, these shoes look like shit.
It was time. I was ready.
So, it is because of that experience I now know that my new shoes and I will also survive, we will overcome. And when we do it will be spectacular. Patience is key. Love is enduring, as I know these new shoes will be.
I see long-term relationship potential here.
At least from what the Dansko people told me anyway.