I found this umbrella in our stairway, and I've been using it for a little while now. The day I found it, I literally fell in love with it. It made my heart smile every time I was under it, and the rain became an incredibly enjoyable experience. Everything was romantic. Everything.
I know I'm making a big deal about an umbrella, but I don't think you understand.
I loved going out in the rain under that thing. I've only used it about 3 or 4 times, but each time, I was incredibly, inexplicably happy. I swear to God it was like being in love for the first time. I didn't even realize the euphoria was there. I didn't even notice a lack of gloom. I just know that it made the air around me lighter.
It was a big umbrella, not one of those dolty totes; it had a curved handle, like a cane, and opened up smoothly. It was big and light and lavender (purple's my favorite color), and it had Gouguereau's First Kiss (from the elbows up) around the edges in the most, perfect, complimenting, serene pattern.
Today, I was walking around Greenwhich village -- in itself an incredibly beautiful area. I was wide eyed and light-hearted, I had a tough start to the day (at an ungodly hour nonetheless), but it was ending beautifully. I had just finished seeing Banksy's exhibit in New York (if you don't know who he is... gasp! Google him, please), and was topping it off by getting deliciously lost in the west village with a friend who didn't mind walking aimlessly in the rain with me. I was smiling, I was taking pictures of flowers and wet red leaves, I was awed by windows and wide wooden doorways and the secret gardens that threaded the neighborhood. I was delighted when I saw a couple on a Vespa turn the corner of a small, intimate, cobblestoned street with red brick buildings, white trimmed windows and bright green vines. I struggled against the wind to take a picture of them at a stoplight, the beauty its backdrop, but I missed the opportunity. We picked a direction to turn and I rounded a corner to see the Hudson River; I got really excited. It was the pier, gray and gloomy, but I wanted to stop by before we got on the train.
We began walking towards it, and the wind picked up. Fast. The rain intensified. And suddenly, a huge gust left my umbrella in an upside-down J shape. I stared at it, open-mouthed. Literally, it died. And I swear, no joke, at that exact second, my happy mood died with it.
It was completely unsalvageable. Dead. Broken. It punched me in the forehead before it flipped over and died. I had no words. I had to throw it out. It was so hard, but I laughed at my sadness over an umbrella and left it next to a corner garbage can on Bleecker street.
I'm so sad. I thought I'd be able to come home and find another one online. We continued walking in the now-light drizzle (Jesus had his fun), and I don't know. The rain, even in Greenwhich village, had lost its appeal. I was silent for a while, and I remarked that I suddenly didn't like the rain anymore. It wasn't as fun walking around without the umbrella. I let my hair get drenched, I didn't mind so much; I kissed my friend goodbye and went home.
I thought I'd be able to find it if I searched hard enough. When I went online, I couldn't find a damn thing. Not one thing. I began to panic. I asked my father where we got the umbrella. He told me that Grandma and Grandpa had brought it to America with them from Korea. He said that it was over 15 years old, and they didn't even make it anymore.
Oh god. I'm so sad. You don't understand.
I knew I should have brought it home, I knew I could have gotten it fixed or at least held on to the top or something, I could have but I didn't, and I just left it there. I left it there even though something in me tugged at my hands really hard and told me not to. There was no reason to keep it. I let logic win this once. And now I'm never gonna see it again. Grandma and Grandpa, man. I didn't know. I had no idea. Maybe it was the love that was felt under that umbrella 15 years ago that my soul recognized and lifted towards. I don't know. I'm just so sad. Like I really think I'm heartbroken over this. Shit.
There's no other way to explain it. My vocabulary isn't even willing to turn over eloquent words or stories.
I'm just so, so sad right now.
Edit: My friend had snuck a picture of me while I was taking footage of the Banksy exhibit. He was nice enough to send me an RIP email with the image after I expressed my ridiculous sadness. Edited for identity privacy.
