Tonight I went to G’s house for dinner. Warm food,
kind conversation. I love her house. G is understanding and empathetic,
having endured a painful breakup several years ago herself, from the father of
her children. In some ways, it was comforting. She has confirmed it: I am not
insane! The crying, the stomachaches, the mind-carousel of thoughts, the crying
over Norwegian goat cheese in the grocery store—these feelings, these physical
manifestations of heartbreak are normal, expected parts of the healing process.
And even better? They are time limited.
Eventually, as G and so many others have proven, we humans establish equilibrium.
Although I may never look at goat cheese the same.
On the other hand, it was painful to be out of my
cave, enjoying time with others, seeing
a person on the other side of pain. Lately, when people talk, I struggle to
comprehend. My face is pointed in the right direction. My mouth smiles. I laugh—…ha, ha, haaaa!!-. Perhaps an imperceptible
beat too late, but still fairly convincing. But in my mind? I am thinking.
Thinking, thinking, thinking. What should
I have done differently? What have I done? What can I do to fix this? What will
the coming months be like, looking at the Autumn leaves alone? What could I…woulda,
shoulda, coulda…I can fix this, right? No, I need to let it go. Why won’t he
call? And when will this person stop talking so I can escape to my car to cry?
After leaving Gaby’s (how long was I there? I have no
idea) I park and walk to my apartment. The rain has stopped and I breathe in
the delightful scent, so clean and new, so full of memories…damnit. An exquisite sadness twists at
my heart. The lonely feeling again. Like an adult-sized version of the
homesickness I used to feel at summer camp, like everything familiar is out of
reach. And everything familiar is so much better than what I’m experiencing
now. The unfamiliar. Nothing will ever compare. Noth. Ing.
Look,
Lady.
I think to myself, trying to be stern. The glorious scent after rain? It’s
glorious because it is. Yes, it reminds you of him. Yes, so many of your
tender, happy memories are swept up in the scent of this rain. But even without
him…doesn’t it smell ok? It wasn’t your relationship that made it smell sweet.
It was the flowers, and the grass, the clean air.
I try to think of another time I’ve enjoyed the rain.
I am 8 years old and Mom and Dad say they will buy me
a toy. With wide eyes, I look and look, wandering up the aisles, pushing my
glasses up my nose, wringing my hands, filled with indecision. Dad suggests a
stuffed squirrel. Cute. I think. But not what I want. Should I choose it so Dad
will be happy? Will he be disappointed if I choose something else? Will it hurt
his feelings? Guilt squirms in my tummy.
I’m such a worried kid! No…I calm down. He won’t mind. He said choose anything I want.
So I continue to look until I see her—a doll! A baby doll that smells like baby
powder. I put my nose up to her and breathe in her sweetness. I admire her
delicate blue dress. This is it. My baby. Mom nods in approval. Dad pays for her
and it’s raining as we walk side by side to the car. As Dad drives, I hold my
baby and watch drops trickle down the windshield, the windows. It’s gray and
wet outside and inside, I feel a little sad. I’m not sure why. I’m just that
kind of kid! Maybe I wish I picked the squirrel? Maybe I’m feeling excited and
worried about it being over too soon? I look down at my doll. I remember to be
happy again. Dad smiles at me in the rear view mirror, and I feel safe.
The same mixture of emotions, the same worry about
pleasing others, the same existential crisis. God, what kind of kid was I?? What kind of kid worries about
the impermanence of things?? The kind of kid that turns into a serious, dreary
adult!
Or you know what? Maybe I’m coating my memories with
the colors of my current misery. I probably went home that night, watched TGIF
with my siblings, ate a Kids Cuisine, and stayed up late to play with my doll. Even
as a melancholy-prone person, I still know how to have a good time.
Ack! -Your life is not over, Melbot. The rain still
falls, the sun still rises. Your life will be filled with sadness, but it will
also be defined by joy, forgiveness, and light-- if you let it. The rain keeps falling no matter who you
know, who you love, and who loves you back. It keeps falling and it keeps
smelling clean and fresh and sweet. You are going to be ok. You both are.
Now check out this awesome video.
