Break-up’s suck. If there’s a universal truth that one could agree on, I feel like this might be it. I have no delusions that I am special on this front. Everybody hurts, bleeds, cries, aches, vomits (emotionally and physically). And while I realize that this Jane Austen truth, that a break-up is a colossal, profound loss of a partner and a lover, to me it’s much more and much different. It’s all the little deaths. Tiny mini dream deaths. Keeping the bed warm death. Cuddle up to me death. A your face is the first thing that I see in the morning and it makes me thrill, smile and be at peace death. A let’s make summer plans death. A valentine dies. You’re my automatic plus one no more. I cease to communicate with you with every whim or thought I have because, we don’t do that anymore, because it’s a little death. Tell Mr. Sondheim he got it wrong. Every Day A Little Death? Try every hope a little death. Every thought a little death. Your smile kills me. And what happens to the words you’ve said to me? Do those die too? Have I ceased to make you safe? Maybe to me that’s the biggest mystery. Where do the feelings go? Do you just wake up one day and think, okay, I’m done? Do they dissipate? Evaporate? Rhyme intended. Inside joke intended. How is it that no one has these answers? We’re supposed to be logical and practical about these things which logic and practicality do not apply. We’ve been in each others lives. Known each other intimately. And I hate to live in a world where that fact doesn’t exist. When I’m just a friend to you. Can’t we be friends and former significant others? Friends and former lovers? Again, with the intended rhyme. I don’t have a problem with friends. I have a problem with being friends with no history. Do I hope that you’re having these same thoughts and feelings too? Sadly, yes. Not because I wish you pain, because that is the LAST thing that I would ever wish you. But because if you feel these little deaths too, then I know that I’ve touched you. To me, that is what’s most important.
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