I have parted ways with the couch. The best sectional couch ever made, that has shrunk in sections since I first obtained it in the year 2000.
I first got to know the couch in the counseling room of Fort Lewis College. The once fashionable house started life in the 70s in the den of Susan McGinnis. She later brought it to the group room, where in 1999 I was participating in Dream Group. When the counseling center got the budget to redecorate, the couch needed a home and I wrote a work order to have it brought to lounge of Camp Snyder.
However, when Bill saw it, he firmly said, “I wouldn’t let my mother sit on that couch. Get it to the dumpster.” I said, “ahh, come on, it has a good vibe.” Bill won and I split the couch between my RAs and myself. At the end of the school year, I collected all but one section from my RAs and took it off the hill to my apartment on Florida. (Pronounced Flor-ee-da.)
I went so far as to bring the whole thing with me to Chicago, when (honestly) it should have been donated to a party house. But it was so practical and comfortable and full of memories, I couldn’t leave it in Durango.
My first Chicago roommate, Matt, inherited most of the couch when he moved into a studio. His pink, sturdy couch went to our upstairs neighbors and the practical ugly couch was split between us. I took two peices and he took three.
Trish hated the couch, so 1/2 of my 1/2 was kept in my room and the other half was used as a coat rack in the living room. When I brought the couch to my current apartment, it fit the decor. Brown and fuzzy furniture from rec rooms around chicago.
Now I have a new roommate. One night, not realizing it was my couch, Jon honestly said that he cared most about, “Getting rid of that thing.” “It’s mine.” “Oh, sorry… it’s just covered in spidey hair and I’m allergic.” “I’m not ready to get rid of it.”
Today I got one step closer to adulthood and put the two remaining peices in the basement. I was on the way to dumpster, but couldn’t do it. I still love the couch. It represents something that I don’t have in Chicago. It reminds me how much I grew during 1 1/2 years doing dream group. Imagine how much more I’ll grow, if I can let go of the past.
Another year or so and it will hit the alley.
Promise.
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