Break ups suck, we all agree.Whether mutual or one party initiating; whether a shocking surprise or long slow death; whether relief or torture, short or long-term, the loss of a loving connection tears at the heart.
We know this. We’ve all felt it. I’m nearly 54, and can’t believe I’m still working my way through this sad swamp, grabbing at the tree roots of friends to pull me out.
Black sticky smelly mud weighs down my shoes, bedraggles my hair. Yes, I’m alive- I’m safe from the virus, the pantry is full, and I’m typing this in front of the fire while the rain drums overhead.
But my soft bleeding heart is simply bleeding. She patches herself up for a few hours; strikes a bold pose to a couple of upbeat songs, then wilts as the day moves on. Until bedtime, when all the lonely ghosts inside drift up, casting around for comfort and to be held.
To be soothed, and lullabied. To be warmed, and heard.
To be safe.
‘There’s nothing to be done G. You’re alone, and all you’ve ever truly had is You.’
This I do know. As I said in my last post, I know I’ll survive. But the illusion of deep connection and comfort was compelling, so I danced right on in there, eyes shining and heart open.
The extrication has been difficult, and a month long so far. I’m tired, overwrought, and wounded. Then today I found this song, articulating feelings I hadn’t even got to yet.
Thanks Universe, for helping me out.
At a time when so much is going drastically wrong on a global scale for so many, I also don’t have to deny my pain, or minimise ways of coping with it. I never was one to drink whiskey and drown sorrows, but this young Scottish singer clearly shares my mood:
Where would we be in these trying quarantine times without music & dance? Whoever would have thought a shoe shuffle could be so melancholy?
In gratitude for the gifts of love and Art, G xO