Thursday, September 01, 2011

Real Llife

Today I cried for several consecutive hours. I cried all the way up route 130 and kept it up in the store once I arrived. I cried walking around town in the dark. I cried while I ate jolly ranchers and watched crickets. I cried and cried and cried my eyes out. But, I did not smoke.
I think smoking was a more effective procrastination tool than I realized. It allowed me to avoid more than just my "to-do list". I was also avoiding looking at the unpleasant truth of things. I would just go sit outside and smoke. Now that I am giving it up, there is nowhere to hide. Everything is bubbling up, rising to the surface. And I am afraid, but I also love it.
I am finally, after many months and many moons, accepting that the relationship is over and truly a done deal. I have been telling myself all sorts of stories, all manner of denials. "Maybe he misses me, too. Maybe he feels the same way I do. Maybe one day he will realize what he's missing and change his heart, his mind." Because of these stories, I didn't want to move on. I didn't want to delete the emails, all the texts from the beginning when things were glorious. "Eventually," I told myself, "when we get back together I'll want to have those things to remember." I am finally accepting that this will never happen. I am accepting that there is nothing to hold on to; the past is the past no matter what stories I tell myself about it.
So now I am facing it, allowing the grief to wash over me. It feels like hell.
It also feels pure and real. And uncomplicated (at least when I stick with it.) But, I notice that I want to be angry. I want to demonize him and cast myself as the victim. I catch myself constructing these elaborate stories about how he wronged me. There is nothing happening, all just stories I am telling myself.
And there is another story. This is the one where I sweep my real feelings under the rug so we can be friends. Believing in any story I tell myself won't work.
What I want is the easy way out, to pin a label on it, an answer, something concrete so I can wrap the whole thing up: all figured out. The truth is that there is no absolute truth. And tonight I recognized that I don't have a choice. If I want to live honestly, I need to stay in the moment where it is uncomfortable and messy. I need to steep in it and let it all seep in. It can be a scary place to hang out, but it is real life.
It's time to start telling myself a new story. Maybe it will be a list of possibilities or a love letter to myself. Maybe I will make my life a poem that begins with "love attracts love". Or maybe, I will stop believing in my stories and just allow the the beauty of the world to rise up and meet me.


Anonymous said...

You will become stronger and stronger.

Pretty soon, you will possess Hulk-like strength. SMASH!


nova robinson said...

Ha! I almost forgot about Merps. So glad that happened. Among other things.

Heart and a half.

Anonymous said...

You are an excellent writer.

Randall "Jack" Robinson said...
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