Love and Loss

It wasn't the first time I lost my wallet. The first time was earlier last year. I left it in the Biola cafeteria. It resurfaced, minus the cash, and I joyfully reclaimed it. So imagine the difficulty of having to go through the grieving process a second time.It was lost (or maybe stolen!) somewhere on the Metro in Spain in between the stop Atoche and Ducal.It is a horrifying moment when you reach for the one vessel that carries not only your identity (license and school ID) but the means by which you survive (credit card, cash) and thrive (Olive Garden gift card, Hollywood video card) and IT'S NOT THERE. It's like looking down and discovering part of you is missing (like a finger or a liver).I immediately started going through the five stages of grief:1. Shock and Denial: I dug through my purse five times, thinking, no, no, no, no. I realized it was gone. I told myself it was gone. Then I dug through my purse again. Repeated this whole process at least four times.2. Pain and Guilt: Why hadn't I protected my beautiful wallet better? Why hadn't I been more alert? Oh, when would this agony end? When could I love another wallet again? Probably never.3. Anger and Bargaining: I was outraged at the thought that someone could have stolen it ("this is a sorry world we live in!") and outraged that I could have left it somewhere ("what kind of person are you, possibly leaving your life source on the ticket booth?!). And I immediately started thinking up possible trades: "it would have been better if my passport AND my SS card were stolen-just not my wallet. WHY wasn't it Lei's wallet? TAKE LEI'S WALLET, GOSH-TAKE HER WHOLE SUITCASE!! -JUST PASS OVER ME!"4. Loneliness and Reflection: I thought about all the good time I had with that wallet and how beautiful it had been. I thought about how faithfully it had served me over the past four years.5. Acceptance: uh, yeah, I'm still working on this one.What is most sad is that the Juicy Couture wallet was one of my prized possessions. It was stunning-silver, with delicate tucking and an adorable heart on the back. I bought it with one whole check right before I went to Biola freshman year. And I am not lying when I say it brought me pleasure every time I drew it out of my purse.I had stopped keeping a diary just about the time I got the wallet. And in a way, the wallet had become my diary. It held pieces of my past four years, objects that land marked my life: solicitous notes from various guys, ticket stubs, small magazine pictures of things that had caught my fancy, post its from my roommates, and miniature To Do lists. I'd saved a note or two from my boyfriend, who doesn't write love letters. Little inconsequential notes, but ones written in his affectionate way. I am saddest about those.I am now trying to recover and put my life back together, an arduous task involving several hours at the DMV and a few more at the bank, convincing them I am indeed, Autumn S. Brim. And I have another wallet. A turquoise one from Guess. I can't say I've given my heart it though-No, my heart will always belong to my Juicy Couture Wallet. :)

-Autumn