Friday, September 2, 2016

On seeing the ending

Losing someone and getting hit by a truck must be the same thing. It's worse than anything I've ever imagined, and I've been practicing for a tragedy my whole life. Every single thing you do you have to do for the first time knowing you will face an absence that can not be distracted. Every time is like getting hit in the chest. Some days I'm just not brave enough to get hit again. In the car I blast rave music as loud as I can, begging my ears to ring and the rear view mirror to rattle. I pretend to say hello to dogs I meet and I know they can see through me. The devastation of it all is so heart-shattering, and for a while it feels like you're trapped in a movie theatre. The lights are dark, the sound is loud, and all you can do is watch the same scene over and over again.

No one at work knows what happened because I can't have people who care checking in on me. I have wine in my office these days but that sort of constant re-hashing would send me into Tuesday Mimosa territory and I have work to do. I'm finished with my house. I'm finished being in debt. I'm finished waiting for my real life to begin.

All you can do is wait. Breathe. Be gentle. Grief was made for depression, partners in crime. Ambition and frustration are stronger than ever but some times I can't move. And that is okay. I agreed to let myself move as slowly as I want right now. And if I need to avoid a situation for a while then I get to do that too.

If you've decided to spend your life with someone then they are the most important person in your life. Be the person you want to be with them, and don't rely on the benefit of the doubt, the grain of salt, the taking for grantedness of any of it. Be kind. Use that freshly cracked open heart to find the softness you're so afraid of.

My tolerance for suffering fools has all but vanished; our lives are too short to waste on the useless. No one except your spouse is entitled to your attention. Fire clients. Ignore your neighbor. Pull over and take a photo of the light shining through the clouds onto the mountain. I give so many fucks so ferociously that I'm fresh out.

Get up and leave the theatre. You don't have to watch it again, you know how it ends.

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