the sound

26 April 2002 - 03:12

<<--unravel * reintegrate-->>

i stumbled into our apartment at 3AM this morning, eye makeup streaking my cheeks, feet almost bleeding from walking at least 80 blocks, covered with new jewelry (from an afternoon of retail therapy), box of cheez-its in my hand. telling you why is probably as informative as not telling you. but here goes...

a little over two years ago i had my heart broken badly. eight months after the end of our relationship, my ex asked me to visit. i rode a greyhound for 27 hrs to see him. i was 19. it was my first trip alone, my first time in a new city alone. we fought, and he abandoned me in a scary motel room (this is when i really started to lose it). two days later he repented and consented to see me. we fought even more viciously than the last time.

he was 6 years older than me. and i was emotionally a child, in ways i never anticipated. whoever thought of the word devastated invented it for me in that moment. i went from having no separate identity (violently unhealthy enmeshment) to having a miniscule, lonely, self-hating speck of an identity thousands of miles away from anyone who loved it. sometimes i can still hear the sound my heart made when it broke. sometimes i can still feel everything drop away, my clawing at the walls, clawing at myself, falling forever, and wretching with every part of my being.

i collapsed on the floor of the club i was in tonight crying. i hope no one saw.

the sound of the infinitely large/loving/trusting/grand heart of a child breaking. and in that moment, this is what she wrote:
"i knew the evening would end and he would be gone, maybe forever. and that's when it hit me. that's when i understood love. (maybe...hopefully.) he was right there in front of me, the most beautiful thing i've ever seen, and i don't care if he doesn't want to kiss me or be with me, and any expectation or idea i could have about our future paled next to just being there."

when i hear that sound now, i say the same thing, only now i use these words: "i love you, donna. i will always love you and accept you in every way. and i know that we are part of something lovely, and we will spend our whole lives learning to love and accept these mirrors to our soul that we see everywhere. everything is full of togetherness."

and that beauty i saw in him greets me every morning when i look in the mirror.

<<--unravel * reintegrate-->>