My lover's gone!

The first time I saw those red, shiny high stilettos….so exquisite, so unattainable sitting on the top ledge of the window display, I had fallen for them and hard, I might add. It was love at first sight. My friend introduced us. I had also received the low-down on how many women had lusted after them and that made them even more alluring. I didn’t go in and make the purchase immediately, I wasn’t sure if it was worth the investment and whether I would be able to carry them off. I left for Canada to complete my last semester in university, but I couldn’t get the memories out of my system. My heart was still in India.

I came back and brought that exotic, beautiful love into my life. I was a virgin when it came to heels this high. I knew they were high-maintenance shoes but I wanted to take the chance because this pair was just so pretty. You should have seen the pride on my face the first time I put those heels on. I was on the top of the world, literally :)... But an hour into it, I could feel the shoes biting into my skin. Painful boils appeared on my ankles and feet, I figured it was just adjustment problems, it was a new relationship after all. We just needed time to get used to each other, that was all...right?

I constantly got admiring glances from people, especially from envious women. My friends told me how we made such a great pair and how I nice looked in those shoes. I had to make a whole lot of changes to accommodate my new love in my life, but I didn’t mind. I had to change my wardrobe because I had nothing stylish enough to go with them. I had to stop eating the way I did and join the gym because the shoes deserved a svelte body on top of them. I had to put ice packs on my ankles after every wear.

The painful affair continued. It was an addiction of sorts. I missed my shoes during the work-week obviously. I could only enjoy their company on the weekends... when I went to a club or restaurant that was swanky enough. That wasn’t enough for me, I wanted to wear them more often. But, every time I wore my lovely shoes on the weekend, all the problems with my ankles and feet would resurface. I could not dance anymore in those shoes, even though I absolutely love dancing. Those shoes for made for me stand elegantly like a lady with a cosmopolitan in my hands and smile at the photographers. I couldn’t be the carefree, almost clumsy, dancing clubber who got high on music...anymore.

It started to become extremely uncomfortable, every time we were together. I thought I had resigned to the fact that these shoes were high-maintenance and this relationship would take a lot of work. But I started to feel like I didn’t have any patience for it anymore. I started to prefer other, more comfortable pairs of shoes over this one. I could not wear the shoes anywhere but parties anyway and thanks to my work shifts I wouldn’t go out much. The distance between us grew. Then I finally resigned to the fact that these shoes didn’t fit now and there was no way they would fit me in the future. It wasn’t working out for us anymore. A year and a half is a long time.

I would have to give up my first real love and would cherish the memories. It was time to leave them in my closet...forever. Maybe they were made for another woman and not me... it was the only way I can console myself. They weren't made to take me through the different walks of life, so I am a lone ranger from now on.