“There’s a reason I said I’d be happy alone. It wasn’t because I thought I’d be happy alone; it was because I thought if I loved someone and it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone because what if you learn that you need love and then you don’t have it? What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage; it’s life, dying. The only difference is death ends.
This, it could go on forever.”
Unaccompanied Minor, Grey’s Anatomy
Listening to Adele’s ’19’ album instantaneously takes me back to the days in France. Or back to the memories, more like.
Memories that, when stirred up, leaves a burning sensation in the pit of my gut, mind & heart.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda… But didn’t.
Last night was a mistake. The entire conversation & what transpired; starting the conversation was a step to a downward spiral into hell. Someone should really take my phone away from me when I drink – $20 for two & a half hours of open bar could very well be the death of me.
So much for wanting to close that chapter.
There are places I can’t go to, films & shows I can’t re-watch, songs I can’t listen to, things I can’t do, old habits I can’t slip back into, strangers who look or sound like you whom I can’t talk to, food I can’t eat, emotions I can’t let myself feel, scents I turn away from, memories I suppress and thoughts I can’t think, because they remind me too much of the past –
And the pain that comes along with going through all that, just isn’t worth it.
I miss you most in the morning
Most every morning
I wake up thinking
I could call;
I could come visit;
I could come running;
We could relive it
But when I think of all that we’ve been through,
Going back to you
Seems such a foolish thing to do
I hope you know –
That even if I don’t,
I wanted to
All those words you said at the ending
Were pretty revealing
And I can’t forget them
All those ways we missed at connecting,
Despite all our trying,
It always came back to –
What I couldn’t give you
So when I think of starting up again,
Or trying to be friends,
It seems impossible to do
That even if we can’t,
I wanted to
Who knows why
Two people perfectly aligned
Should ever have to find themselves apart
I’ll never understand my heart
I miss you –
Most in the morning,
Most every morning,
I wake up crying.
And that, is that.
“Someone real,” I hear myself saying. “Someone who never has to pretend, and who I never have to pretend around. Someone who’s smart, but knows how to laugh at himself. Someone who would listen to a symphony and start to cry, because he understands that music can be too big for words. Someone who knows me better than I know myself. Someone I want to talk to first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Someone I feel like I’ve known my whole life, even if I haven’t.”
Jodi Picoult, Sing You Home
… But I guess there’s a reason why fiction is fiction, and reality is reality, and that there will always be that line separating the two.