moi, I have a story like that. I went out with a guy in college and, while we were over at his house, I picked up a copy of Naked Lunch. He said it was his favorite book and asked if I wanted to borrow it. He was very adamant that he get it back though, and wrote his name and number in the front cover. A couple weeks later, graduation and summer came. I tried calling him that summer at the number, but he’d moved (it was just a typical college house).
Years later, that book has moved with me a dozen times back and forth across the U.S. and now resides in Australia (it was born in Maryland). It’s been with me through a bunch of other boyfriends and now lives with my husband, baby and me. Here it is, three feet away from me right now. Every time I look at it, I feel guilty that I didn’t return it. A few months ago, I actually googled the guy and he runs some sort of design company, so he now has a website. Should I try to return it? Or would he think I was a nutcase?
I loaned a CD to the father of a girl I was dating. The loser lost it. He kept saying he’d pay for a new one, but it never happened. It was my Richard Thompson “Mock Tudor” live and I just know I’ll never get another copy. At least he gave me back my Dave Carter/Tracy Grammer. I also lost my book “A Woman Like That” to that relationship. Maybe I should call her and demand my stuff back.
My ex husband somehow got my Helen Humes “Let the Good Times Roll” album. He claims to have lost it… :dubious: I tried for years to find another. It was apparently not released on CD, and I just couldn’t find the album anywhere. I told my dad, who turned me on to Helen Humes in the first place. I asked him if he knew where to find a copy. He said he didn’t.
The last Xmas my dad was alive, 2003, I got a flat, square present. It was his copy of "Let the Good Times Roll". So, my ex taking (or losing :dubious: ) the album led to a very meaningful gift from my dad.
I had a three-night stand that ended with running off with my Tommy! the musical t-shirt. It was worth it. But I miss the shirt. I had forgotten about it until I saw one on TV the other night.
I had this really nifty travel clock-radio–top of the line electronics in its day.
My boyfriend at the time was Moroccan, and I am/was American. We met in southern France while I was on a Junior Year Abroad thing. He wanted me to marry him and move to Morocco with him. I wanted to live somewhere where women had a decent number of rights. I broke up with him just before moving back to the States, but I bought him a one-way train ticket back to Morocco, and gave him the clock-radio.
We happened to run into each other again about three years later, when I went back to France again. (Really weird story how that happened, but a completely different topic…) He told me that he was so devastated by the fact that I left him that he gave away everything he owned that reminded him of me, including the clock-radio. I was really bummed that he couldn’t give me back the clock-radio.
I have read a lot of different threads in here, I am still a guest and sitting on the fence…waiting for that almighty push. I read this thread and think to myself…how lucky some people are…you have all lost material things, I have lost my life, or should I say what used to be my life…when I gave up my ex…he left permanantly…I have all the material things, just wish he was still here…Get past the materialistic things in life and be happy you still have your life and those you love.
Okay, this doesn’t strictly fit the definition, but there’s one story that still gets me a little steamed.
I had a girlfriend back in 1998 who was in a band. She and I went out for a couple of months, I ended it, and then I pretty much had an enemy for life. Anyway, near the end, she sent me a cd ep of her band, which included one song that had my initials in the title (it was a sub-title - something like “dreaming of CEM” or something like that). The song itself was a Lords of Acid-like psychedelic dance song with her repeatedly moaning and doing other things of a sexual nature. Regardless of whether or not she turned out not to be the one, that’s a pretty cool souvenir to have.
I lent it to a girl at work because she didn’t believe me. I never saw her again - she quit. She still has it, granted she didn’t toss it out.
Opinions, when I read these stories I get the sense that a lot of the posters were feeling like you are feeling now. Possibly the only difference is the number of years between their stories and yours. I hope so - hang in there.
The first two Grand Funk Railroad albums on vinyl - On Time and S/t (the red album). I only went out with her for a few days, too… though we had been friends a while before that.
A 1960’s leather biker jacket. I bought it at a flea market for a couple of bucks - it was in dreadful shape, but the horsehide leather was still good, and it had that beautiful ancient battered patina you just can’t reproduce. Best of all, it fit me like a glove.
I spent a bit of money having it relined, the zips replaced, and all the seams restitched, until it was truly a thing of beauty. You can see where this is heading, can’t you? I lent it to hippybitch, my evil ex-partner, who said she needed a warm jacket because she lived down South in Dunedin, where the winters are pretty cold.
Next thing you know I’ve been kicked to the kerb in favour of some other guy, and the jacket has been “lost”, hippybitchspeak for “I gave it to some guy I slept with for drugs”. I don’t miss the evil ex, but I sure as hell miss that jacket. Now I only have four left.
After I wrote that post, I decided for no good reason I would google the bandname and holy crap, there it was. The song where she moans for me isn’t uploaded on this page, but it’s on the cd cover (track 2). Their “signature track” on there (“Inpenetrable”) is the somewhat unflattering song she wrote about me after I refused to listen to her cry to me about wanting to get back together. I guess it wasn’t completely lost after all.
I’ve lost my Highschool class ring to a horrible ex. I also left some stuff with a gal I was shacked up with, fig’rin I’d get around to collecting it later and never did. All minor, childish shit, really.
But I miss the shirt. I had forgotten about it until I saw one on TV the other night.