She has that look on her face of forced happiness. I mean, she’s smiling in her Instagram photo, but something about her smile feels disingenuous—No.
Actually forced. Like it hurts to smile all the way from the inside.
Because in giving it all away…
This simply reminds of her of when she did…and it didn’t work out. And her face hasn’t fully recovered.
It’s almost frozen in this subtle look of uncomfortability. Like she was sitting in traffic, passing a car accident on the road.
But you wouldn’t recognize any sort of dissonance on her face right away or in passing, especially if you were only an acquaintance or a casual online social media viewer of her life.
But I knew better.
I knew better, because that’s how my face has felt this past month.
I’m living in two realms at once.
I’m crying and I’m laughing—mostly and oddly at the same time.
When I was close to him, I could feel my vulnerability.
Close proximity is a joyful and painful experience.
Much like delight.
You rush to feel and touch it, and yet fear it falling through your fingers before your next breath.
It’s weird to feel like your dying and living at the same time.
I mean, I don’t feel depressed at all.
I just literally feel like I’m dying and living simultaneously.
And I could feel his intentions towards me, and I let notes hang in the air, hoping the melody would begin to play over both he and I.
But that was merely wishful thinking.
Maybe I’m too old to believe in fairytale love stories…
But I still do.
And he and I so easily got back into our rhythm of things, and there I was…dying.
There were those moments in the silence…and I just knew we both were thinking the same thoughts.
But now I was just too close.
Close enough for me to feel absolutely comfortable and fearless.
And he simply buzzed along.
Like a bee hanging around the atmosphere of a flower--but no moves made, no intentions stated.
And now I had to figure out a way to back out and run.
I’m good at running.
Because I didn’t want to feel close to him anymore.
I wanted a quick fix for the upsurge of pain, but unfortunately…
The only way out is through.
And so now, of course, I’m feeling all the feelings.
And the dying and living in heart continues with volcanic type pressure and revelations:
I think that most men see me as altogether self-sufficient.
Like I have no need of a man, no bones that could be broken, and that my heart doesn’t need to be tended to.
And that I somehow don’t desire to be taken care of.
On the contrary.
It’s this tricky bit of nearness.
Being so close to the light breaking through and yet still in the throngs of a temperamental storm.
And now my boat has flipped over….Again…
And it’s so comical that I laugh, and so devastating that I ugly cry.
Both parts equally moving…the living and the dying parts of my heart.
There’s no way around this.
When I was close to him…to it… to the promise, I felt my vulnerability,
And now to be so far away from him…it…the promise-- I feel my vulnerability.
The living and the dying….
There’s no other way around this…
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,
but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”
~ Maria Robinson