love isn’t far away
it’s not hiding anywhere
you didn’t need to
cry over losing it
you can’t lose what
you’re made of
I posted this to my instagram a few days ago and thought I ought to post it here, too.
here we go, another round in the
boxing ring. you against me this time
goody for you, I think you may have won.
how dull, hum drum, just another woman
who loves you. set the doll aside, its
weeping eyes can put out a fire before
it combusts. I heard energy cannot be
destroyed, only transformed, and this
woman, too, like the fruit flies who pop
persistently in and out of existence from
nowhere. off to find another painful body
to experience, hopefully one a bit better
suited this time, or at least with some very fine
armour. one with white white teeth and some
plump, pink lips that you’d happily bleed
to be swallowed by.
after all you’re that kind of a guy.
I think that last punch wasn’t
even thrown by your good side.
save the worst for last, like someone
else I used to know. strike low blow
after low blow. hey, here’s some space
for you. I have miles of it, you couldn’t
find me with the Hubble telescope.
how’s this? can you feel me again?
can you taste this waning love on your
tongue like yesterday’s leftovers?
pack it up and don’t forget to toss
it in the trash after the fact cause
you never meant to bring it home in
the first place.
to be the leaky tap
from morning to night.
can’t find where to turn the water off.
oh, young heart
A little over a month ago I split from my partner of six years.
We’ve shared a bed, a bank account, a mortgage. We’ve shared trips to faraway places. We’ve supported each other through good and bad, we’ve laughed until we cried, we’ve shouted until I cried. We’ve put up with each other’s annoying habits, talked about our days, exchanged absurd and pointless texts when we were bored. We’ve window-shopped for a ring he’s never going to buy me and we’ve planned a future together that isn’t going to happen.
Because we’re giving up on us… and that’s hard.
I’m not trying to make this out to be a woe-is-me post. Of course there are a lot worse things in life than splitting up with someone. I mean, people are breaking up all the time so there must be something to it, right? I also know there are people who have been together way longer and gotten divorced who would look at this post and go “Just six years? No kids? Pffffft.”
But to me, six years is a very long time. He was my first serious relationship, my first love, my confidante, and above everything— my best friend.
These are just some thoughts on breaking up…
It’s utterly bewildering how someone can go from being everything to you one day, to absolutely nothing the next.
I mean, really. Breaking up is just plain weird. It’s the strangest thing when you have to morph this person who has been so important to you for so long into just somebody that you used to know (as Gotye would say). The sheer force of will it takes to overpower the instinct to call/text him when something funny or peculiar happens is, in and of itself, a massive feat. Who do I share all the developments of my day with? Who will help me get in and out of particularly challenging yoga poses when I practice at home? Who do I call when I need a pick-me-up? Not him. I can’t call him anymore just to say hi. I can’t call him to ask how his day is going or what we should have for dinner. I can’t call him to ask him to pick something up from the store on his way home from work. I have to, like, get everything myself now… every time. Man, life is so hard.
For so long he has been the person that I shared everything with, and now he’s not. And that’s bizarre.
My brain is now a war zone for endless, senseless, hyper-active and totally irreconcilable emotions.
It’s like all these sensations are vying for power in my head Game-of-Thrones-style, and I’m the lowly peasant caught in the cross fire. Everyday somebody new is on the throne and dictating my mindset. It’s a laughable roll of the dice. Will I wake up full of pep and optimism? Will I wake up a miserable, lonely, sobbing mess? A pillar of strength, starry-eyed with dreams and determination? A jaded bitch without trust in anyone? Who knows! But you have to play to win, so keep rolling those dice!
And I do. Every single night.
Letting go of “us” and becoming just “me” is the most devastating, gut-wrenching part.
I’ve expended so much effort trying to make something work that wasn’t going to work. I dedicated so much of my energy and all of my heart to this person because when I committed to forever, I meant it. Realising that forever could end so easily is a possibility that I never allowed myself to consider, and every day has been a struggle to cope with that. To accept it. But I have to let it go. I have to let go of the hope, I have to let go of the dreams, I have to let go of the possibility of a future with the person I intended to grow old with. Somewhere inside me is this heaping sigh of relief brimming with anticipation to be released. I don’t know that I’m ready to release it just yet, but… hopefully soon.
We are over. We were something once, but we’re not now, and we won’t be later. That’s enough watering dead flowers. Enough wasted tears. I’m covered head to toe in battle wounds that I earned fighting for love. I’ll never regret that, but I guess sometimes love just isn’t enough… and maybe that’s okay.
Not everything works out as we expect. Life’s all about moving forward. We should never regret loving someone. Even if they ended up not being “the one”. You can give a lot of love to someone, and get a lot of love from someone, and the fact that it didn’t last forever doesn’t mean that it wasn’t real, or worth it.
Change is just an opportunity to become a better person, and because of all this I’ve decided to take a leap of faith: I’m moving to Toronto. Actually, I’ve moved to Toronto. As of two days ago. I’m starting a new life, in a new city. And while it’s scary to be on the other side of the country from all my friends and family and everyone I’ve ever known, I’m excited.
It’s time for me to create a new home for myself.
Wish me luck. I think I’ll need it.
as we were something,
we were nothing.
in hopes once more
a friendly energy
money left on the table
a way to make this work
a means of using
to our benefit
a strong defense
take a page from change
in this case,
make it an arrangement
be willing to fail
be broken into pieces
if nothing else,
it could help ease some fears
after so long
I’m not to your liking
if there’s any room left
all’s well that ends well, right?
dreamer of heartache
“she’s mad,” they whisper
“that’s love,” she shrugs
all of these silly poems
written about you lining up
like unnecessary soldiers
to collect dust for me
in a random journal waiting
arbitrarily to be tossed
one day in the bin by
some stranger who never
knew what it felt like
to cry over the words.