Monday, May 10, 2010

quiet like stains are on a tablecloth washed in a river

I made it almost to 1 pm today. So that's promising, but now here I am at my desk, feeling my chest constrict. Succumbing when I ought to be sucking it up. Failure.

This is so much bigger than boys (because they are not men) and drama and the fear of dying alone. Those are just extra questions, part of all that is unresolved in my heart, and I am trying to practice a Rilkean patience. This much I know. No matter how much it hurts, this too shall pass. What matters now is what I do with me, the woman I live with, for better or for worse, for the rest of my life.

It is a beautiful day, though it feels for all the world like the first of fall. Freezing in a turtleneck in May—figures.

I don't know which is worse: feeling like I won't make it through the week, or knowing damn well that I will. Day by excruciating day.

It is not this one. Or that one. Not today. Not this particular rejection nor this particular pain. It is the pattern. The serial effect.

Bear with me, y'all. We all know I'll be rolling in begonias before we know it, cresting high and happy into something else. But for now, it is no fun waking up in a world where so many people go about their business indifferent to the impact their rampant douchebaggery will have on the heads and hearts of others.


Phoenix said...

It's always the patterns that are the hardest because that's where the self-loathing creeps in. Brand new mistakes suck and bleed around our fingernails but they don't hang out in the dark at night while we're trying to sleep or worm their way into our brains.

Whether you have the patience of Rilke or Jon Stewart, you have to know that the patterns you see in your life are not YOU, and they do not define you or trap you. Someone explained it to me once: You go up a mountain by circling it. Each time you circle, you might see the same view you saw before, but it is not for you to say that things aren't changing and that you aren't moving higher.

Be gentle on yourself, yeah?

Anonymous said...

Failure, I think not. Noone that has the courage to look themselves in the eye, share their heart and move on could be considered a failure. In fact I think of you much more of a traditional heroine and I am thankful to be able to share in your saga.

justsomethoughts... said...

"rampant douchebaggery"


the circle turns
even if slowly

Scarlet-O said...

<3 <3 <3 GOD YOU'RE GOOD. I know, about making it through the day, all throatlumped and despondent. Look! You did it. You're special. And special keeps going.