Ode to the LoveSac

A part of my glorious days of being single died today. Yes, I know, I haven't been single for almost two and a half years, it's true, but I feel like a part of me died today. Let me explain.

As a young, single girl, I had a pretty good job and a lot of empty space in the house I lived in. My income for a time was, more or less, disposable, and I had just received my first shiny gold credit card. I was 22, and had virtually no line of credit established for myself, so I decided that rather than spending my nice green cash, I'd accumulate purchases on that new credit card, then pay them off in full--to show that I was a responsible consumer.

My LoveSac was the first thing I purchased with the card. They were all the craze in the 2004 college town I was living in, and we were one of the few houses in the neighborhood that had one. We were the Brinker Bandits, and we had a LoveSac. It was awesome.

After later moving into another house with ample room for the LoveSac we, as the now Iowa Idols, still used and loved that large sac of recycled couch foam. It was well used by the many that passed through my door, and when I moved to Virginia, my good friend Johnny babysat it for almost two years. Upon my return, Rob kept it in his apartment before we got hitched, it got babysat again by friends, and then when we moved it into our apartment where we now live. Aside from another short babysitting stint from another friend, we've had it taking up our entire living room floor for the last two and a half years.

Today however, I sold the LoveSac. I sold it for about 40% of the price I originally paid for it. Honestly, not too bad for it being five years old. I would have liked more, but for selling something that is somewhat expensive in a small town like Rexburg, I'm at least satisfied with what how much I got. We now have a living room floor that is covered in carpet, not a huge sac of foam.

Although now I've got some extra spending money, I do feel a little hollow inside. As a single girl I spent a significant amount of time nuggled up by myself in that fluffy sac. As an engaged girl, upon it I kissed my future husband, and felt his warm embrace hold me close to him. Since being married I've had many tender moments in its presence; moments of sadness, comfort, passion, drowsiness, frustration . . . too many to count. It's been my safe place for many years, and now it is gone. I watched it get loaded onto the roof of a black Honda Civic, and then driven away. It makes me a little sad. At least while writing this post I've gotten some tears out. Hopefully it will be a sort of therapy for me.