A lovely British Sea Power lyric.
So, I'm really going to do this; I'm going to blog about something major. 'Breaking-up', this big fat thing that happens to people that happened to me. It's pretty weird; it wasn't my choice by any means, but then there had been all these undercurrents of lies etc. for a while, I guess. I was always worried about it. I won't go into specifics, I guess they aren't relevant if you don't already know them.
REDEMPTIVE - that's the word I was looking for earlier. I was trying to remember the romantic ideal, the power of nature for restoration of ourselves, and it's 'redemptive'. Must remember that.
Anyway, so I guess when you realise a part of your life is shut off so suddenly, that's the hardest bit to take. That I'll not be seeing people that I saw so frequently before, that I won't be going back to those places that were so friendly last time I visited, and that I'm not allowed to feel things I felt moments before. It's not (and I'm not being cruel, just honest) that I'll miss the person in question so much, as that I'll miss everything they were in my life. The joining of two people is never just that; it's something with infinite implications. He won't be in my house again, most probably. He'll never see things that he saw before, and neither will I.
It's difficult to comprehend, though not without its warnings, and I am shocked and upset, but by no means a victim. It's not secret that it was not an epic romance, it was what it was and now it's encapsulated in history. How much of it I'll remember a year from now I'm not so sure, but for now, while the wound is still crusting over, it's a funny thing, something that maybe I regret and maybe I don't, but something that was doomed from its inception - not in a dramatic way, I think we both knew it was - and it's just a case of coming to terms with the way that this happens.
What helps so much is friends, family; the people that don't break up with you, no matter who else they want. To have someone on the other end of a phone, the other end of a hug, just there waiting to tell you they love you is the best thing in the world. I thank you!
And so, with episodes of Masterchef and a cathartic popping of helium balloons, I bid him farewell; goodnight, travel well. When we could never say goodbye, we were holding on to something slowly releasing us from our grip; in a way, the beginning was the start of the real goodbye.
We walked the plank on a sinking ship.
I love you in the morning.
Whose house? Run's house...
And it's done.
Sq.
P.s - Sq's tip for writing inspiration - get into a relationship, and then be broken up with. It gets the old juices flowing.
No comments:
Post a Comment