Wine, Steak, and Freedom
Since breaking up with my Australian ex-partner after six years of living together, I’ve become the kind of woman who drinks wine and eats steak in the middle of the day—gracefully, and with absolute freedom—at my newly purchased height-adjustable dining table.
And tonight, I’m finally throwing out that cursed piece of furniture—the coffee table.
His Dream vs. My Reality
When we first moved into our ten-tatami living room (kitchen included), he insisted that a sofa, a coffee table (w120cm×d60cm), and a 47-inch TV were non-negotiable. I wanted a desk for working too, but there was no room.
As a former interior construction worker, I drew a floor plan, measured everything, and tried to convince him. But for a man raised in a house spacious enough to lose a dog in, the fact that “a 10 cm gap is too narrow to walk through” simply didn’t register. He laughed and said, “We’ll make it work.” No, we wouldn’t.
The Cursed Combination
I suggested a low dining table to match the sofa height so we could eat there, but he instantly rejected it. In his mind, the sofa-plus-coffee-table combo was a cultural truth carved in stone.
To me, it was a useless pairing—too low for meals or study, only functional if you sat on the floor. Still, I foolishly thought, “Maybe it’ll be handy once we have it.”
As expected, it led to days of balancing plates on my knees, and soon the coffee table became his personal dumping ground.
The Road to a Garbage House
In the mornings, I’d find half-empty bottles, mugs, nail clippers, ear picks, paperwork, and the occasional fossilized tissue. At night, they’d still be there. If I asked him to clear plates, he’d say, “They’re still usable.” Apparently, he believed in the afterlife of tableware.
When I stopped cleaning, bottles dried out, empty boxes stayed in the fridge, and toilet paper rolls never reached the bin. Our home transformed from his dream catalogue into a fully immersive trash exhibit.
Goodbye, Pointless Furniture
This endless cleaning issue was one of the reasons we broke up. It made every day feel like a long, drawn-out funeral.
And today, the coffee table that stored all those bad memories will finally be gone.
Goodbye. You were the only piece of furniture in my life that was completely useless unless I sat on the floor.