As I was taking the plaster out of the molds I learned (the broken way) that the heart-shaped plaster base wasn’t quite dry enough to handle.

Oops.

So a few little pieces have now broken off and sit to one side.

I thought I could maybe fix it. After all, I’ve got plenty of glues and, once dry, it could be pieced back together and the mosaic and grout would cover it. Sure, the cracks would still be there but no one would see them.

*  *  *

I was luck to meet my best friend  in middle school, and we were inseparable for 6 years. She stood up for me at my first wedding and consoled me when my future mother-in-law called me an ungrateful little bitch just hours before we stood before the preacher.

We grew apart as I tried to deal with a marriage that wasn’t exactly made in heaven and, eventually, ended. On my own again, I tried to reconnect. In school we loved to go to dances so as adults: we went to clubs. One night we were going out and she had to get “permission” from her on-again/off-again boyfriend for where we were going. We deviated from that plan towards the end of the night wee hours of the morning, and she called to tell him where we were (nice public place, grabbing a bite to eat with some new friends I’d made).

He made her choose: leave now, or she’d never see him again. Furthermore, I later found out, he made her choose between him and me. She chose him. She no longer returned my calls. And when I saw her in traffic one Saturday I followed her, trying to get her attention, to her Mom’s apartment, and she told me she couldn’t talk to me again, and asked me to understand.

I didn’t understand, not really, but I did as she asked. A few months later I got a letter (care of my Mom’s address) trying to explain and saying maybe we’d meet up again at the reunion.

It’s been 10 years. They didn’t make it to the reunion in 2004. They’re still together, married, and (from what I hear) happy. And I’m happy for her even though I’ve never been a fan of his (and I knew him years before I met her). Thursday was her birthday and, well, it stung not being able to email or call to wish her a happy one. I’m still trying to be a friend by honoring her wishes.

*  *  *

10 years weren’t enough time to cover up the cracks in my heart from losing my best friend because of someone else’s insecurity, how did I think some glue and grout were going to successfully patch this piece of plaster?

So instead of a heart-shaped trivet that I wasn’t overly excited about anyway, I have this.

Memory Glasses by Scraps

Painted canvas base, collaged with photographs and magazine images, beads, buttons and other items, the mosaic broken heart, a light spray of pink spray-paint and silver pen.