So, here's how it happened:
It was a bright, sunny day in my beautiful, little town. One of those days that is warm, but you sense an underlying coolness in the air, which smells vaguely of fallen leaves, damp earth and bonfires. Otherwise known as, fall is almost here. The boy and I were wandering around town, when on a complete whim, I decided I wanted to go to the antique stores in town. Now, I consider myself a pretty professional antiquer and in my most knowledgeable opinion, I didn't think too highly of the local antique stores. I hadn't gone there all that much, but what I remembered from those few times was overpriced merchandise and not very friendly shopkeepers. These experiences were not conducive to that description. This is the scene (and for future posts, you can always imagine this is exactly how shopping goes for me):

The boy and I are browsing. Mostly it is just fun being next to him and imagining our house someday and all the ways we will fill it with things that we buy together (in other words, I wasn't really shopping for anything in particular but rather enjoying an experience). When suddenly I spot the trunk (and at a most perfect moment, because I had been checking out the price-tag of an old suitcase, of which I have way too many and probably would have purchased if the magnificent trunk hadn't made its' appearance to me through all the old linens and shabby shutters and hats). It is beautiful. Black and upright, not falling apart just sitting there. I wander closer, tentatively as though it may scare if I approach it too fast. I had been looking for a trunk for some time now. As I got closer, I began wincing at the price-tag that I just knew was going to be entirely out of my price-range. I saw that the inside had a little bit of mold, but nothing that couldn't be fixed, all the drawers were in tact and it even had most of its' hangers. Now, I really didn't want to look at the price-tag. For clarification purposes, so people will understand my hesitance at looking at the price tag. Restored trunks go for somewhere between $500 and 3,000 on Etsy. Not-yet-restored trunks are more along the lines of $150 to 500. Even $150, is more than I am willing to invest, at this moment in my life. I decide to look. The Boy has to catch me, as I faint in complete shock and happiness. (This didn't actually happen, but isn't it nice to think that some girls still faint and that some boys still catch them?) The price is $59. Now comes a turn in the scene that will probably surprise most people.

I flounder. I debate. I question my intentions. I begin to question the meaning of my life and how exactly the trunk fits in. The weird thing is that while I decide that yes, yes the trunk does fit into my life, I still walk away. As I walk away, the rather lovely shopkeeper says something which sticks with me.

Shopkeeper: "Did you find anything you like."
Me: "I found a trunk I would very much like to have."
Shopkeeper: "Oh yes, that trunk would very much like to be had by you."  

Such a simple thing to say, but it is probably what did me in, in the end. Because now, at this point, if I don't buy it we are like a couple who have been torn apart by vicious and terrible obstacles. It's not just that I wanted it, but it wanted me!

I still walk away, in fact, I leave the store entirely and walk all the way to the doorway of the next store, where Seth simultaneously holds me and checks fantasy baseball on the phone while I debate some more. I honestly don't know why things are so difficult for me sometimes. I think  it is because I am getting older and feel like I should be more responsible with my money. As Seth is holding me and I am wondering why this is taking me so long and why I can't just walk away, a couple walks into the store. In a panic, because I am pretty sure they want my trunk, I decide, finally, that I can't live without it. I buy the trunk. The End. Hopefully my next post will involve some before and after pictures...