Another break-up happened last night. No not me. Obviously. However, one that effects me deeply. One that, due to the people and to the timing, had me sobbing. I wish I could say the tears were for my friend as we sat together, and some of them were, but we all know what most were really about. This is one more event, I honestly need to blog, blog, and blog about, but, it is not mine even to blog about, so I have to find other ways to process this.
Despite the tears last night, I feel like I’ve turned the corner. I don’t know if it is permanent corner, or one that will wind back around. I also don’t really know what triggered the corner turn. I think a combo of his ever-sweet but ‘leave me the fuck alone’ between the lines response on his birthday, Christmas being over, New Year’s passing, pre-processing this other break-up, friend after friend being in crisis lately (legitimate, real crisis, not just drama)… Whether it lasts or not, a thought came to me today and it’s either brilliant or plain psychotic. I think the last bit of the man I was has finally died. Whatever bit of him was there, clinging onto life, has been cleaved off. That fact that I don’t even feel sad about that kinda confirms it. While I’d rather be that man, he was happier, and I simply liked him better, I no longer am. Looking back, it’s like it all happened to someone else—both the love and promise and that shattering. It’s detached. Not really personal right now. It was someone else’s life. I’m not that man anymore, it didn’t happen to me. To the man that lived in my body, yes, but not to that man that lives here now.
I said wanted it over. If this is what I was asking for, I didn’t know it. But, hell, I’ll take it.
Black Coffee Tables
1 year ago