Of course, when it came time to choose just 10 pairs of shoes (which turned into 12, but is still a huge improvement) to bring with me to college, I grabbed my ratty old flip-flops and declared them to be my everyday sort of footwear, as the only other summer-ish shoes I brought were a pair of white Skechers flats that make my feet sweaty and my sky-high Forever21 beauties. Needless to say, I planned on wearing the flip-flops just about every day, and I was okay with that. I wanted that.
Then, tragedy struck. Today, on the first day of class and only my second day at school, I was walking home from my news writing class. As I approached the front door to my dorm I thought to myself "huh, I wonder if I can see into my boyfriend's window from here." I walked back and forth a few times, creepily craning my neck around in search of which room was most likely to be his and not giving a single thought to the horrible event that was about to happen.
I tripped. Out of nowhere. No reason, it seemed. I looked around. Good, no one sa-- WHY IS MY FOOT NO LONGER IN MY SHOE?!
This is why.
I hobbled back to my room. I stared at the dead flip flop. I couldn't make any more excuses to keep them, and I think, what with the wonderful, exciting, sea-turle-length life they lived, they would have gladly, willingly signed a "Do Not Resuscitate" form if they were animate objects at all.
I lowered them into the trash, and now they're gone. Forever.
I miss them already, but I know they would have wanted me to get a new pair of flip-flops, except I don't want new flip-flops, I want those flip-flops.
Today was a tragic day.
Have you ever worn something until it fell apart? Did you need a support group to get through it?