This article is published in number 17 of Vanity Fair on newsstands until April 27, 2021
I still think of a pair of leather sandals with a wooden heel that I didn’t buy six years ago on sale. Had I tried them? No. Would they look good with all my clothes? Who knows. Would they have made me dance, walk, feel pussy and twirl twelve inches off the ground as light as a goddess? Who can tell. Yet at regular intervals they come to mind and I regret not having taken them. With your ex it’s different, dear friend: he made you dance for a while but then your feet hurt, gracefulness and divine sensations ran out, and maybe you wanted to feel cool elsewhere and in new clothes.
Make a list of the reasons why he became an ex, that we are always very good at idealizing the past, but perhaps it is worth remembering that everything, at some point, goes out of fashion. You also declutter passions and trust that loves, like sandals, you often want to have them to put them on twice and then forget them at the bottom of the closet.
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