I was clicking around the site, doing my normal Karmaloop shopping, when I came across these sunglasses that remind me of someone. They remind me of a boy and this one day he came back from doing errands with sunglasses in hand. One pair looked much like those pictured above (the Playboy 4608 from Vintage Eyewear), another pair had a wider frame and was more of a wraparound style. The boy had scored these sunglasses for free from an industry friend, and I was hoping that since they were no cost to him he would share with me. He did, however, he kept the pictured ones and offered me the wider ones. I accepted, but secretly I wanted the other pair and truly believe (to this day) they looked better on me and suited my style more than his.

Such a random memory, but this seems to be a recent theme for me. Not wanting sunglasses I can’t have (maybe a little – hello, Jeremy Scott Wings currently out of my budget), but the reminiscing on memories with ex-loves.  There aren’t regrets of ones who got away coming to mind, nor am I having these memories with a heavy heart. I’m just oddly nostalgic.

Maybe it’s the lack of a current love being present and obvious that creates an available space to wander through memories of people and their sunglasses. Or maybe because I shared love with these sunglass owners, that past happiness and love naturally surfaces when I’m in a happy, loving place. I tend to think of love as something that doesn’t just disappear . . . even if it morphs, having love toward one person or thing spills over into other parts of my life. When relationships change and complete, the love that existed isn’t done; perhaps it just moves elsewhere. Maybe it changes or fades over time, but I’m not convinced it’s zapped from your being to a love disposal site on a remote island where it decomposes then reenters our system as pheromones floating above us and starting up new attractions.

What I am convinced of is that those sunglasses would have been better on me. But rather than want a distant memory, I’ll put that attention toward a new pair. I will fondly remember that day, the sunshine, him, and the sunglasses as I find new ones to love.

Stella Burchard — a New York City-based writer, sales rep, and blogger – is the Queen of Bows. For more on her + her writing, check out QueenofBows.com, her columns on M.I.S.S., or follow her on twitter!