once upon a time there was this guy
and this girl
and she was...very very in love
you know this kind of story. it's easy to relate to. take a minute. reflect. call up that feeling, you remember the feeling. that fell in love feeling. go ahead. empathize. swim in it. we can all relate. that so in love and it's all gonna be good and look how happy we feel feet spooned together or feeding eachother icecream or telling the kids to shut up as we laugh at our secret dirty joke or just gazing up at the leaves as we fall asleep in the sun in eachothers arms love.
most of us. the lucky. the lucky for a moment or a year or an eternity.the many. all the living and breathing have felt this feeling.
and we've also felt that other feeling. it's slipping away and it's all so there, still. the it's over and how the fuck is over and how is it so far away, already, when it's not here.
How are we politely handing eachother the salt and holding hands with others when we were just in love?
how are we walking away and not glancing back when we use to back away slowly holding eachothers eyes. how are we glancing back like we don't want to go anywhere, but we know we'll keep on walking.
these are all old stories. old. new, always there. it never goes away. every person you've ever loved still there. a ghost. a friendly ghost. a fierce and angry demon. a small part of you. reliable. like puppies are cute.
this again, is a story I don't have to tell. how he left. or how she left. or how neither left but they just slowly died inside and they are together still but they still miss love.
old stories that fill my head and wont allow me to write.
and people tell me things. so many things. the stories people will tell me. and it's crazy. I'll cry at the slightest reference to tragedy on TV and sob infuriatingly at a story of a story of love and loss. and still they tell me and it's all inside me. so many stories, so unique and moving and exactly the same.
I know how they feel. we all know. swim in it.
so there is no reason to hash over the whens and whys of love and loss.
but lets talk another tale. one thats harder to feel because numbness makes no allies. the after math. the after math of the after math when it's over and you are okay and yet it still still still won't go away. when it's there because of pomp or circumstance. be it custody battles or your stupid damn heart.
they are there and around and you still go on and now you have to assimilate the past with the present and the wanting with the knowing and wishing with the forever knowledge of what history has taught you.
we see those stories unfold around us every day and thank heaven nobody writes about this dull and dumb time. built to confound, bound to embarass. there to bring out every shocking moment of our self betrayal, every lingering doubt at our own self respect.
it's a curiousity, really, what role do we play in our own demise? might we play a larger part in our own rebirth?
but it's not glorious. it's just life. it's like an exercycle and good square meal and a sensible pair of shoes and noting, begrudgingly, that they almost suit you.
you can do it. but nobody is gonna write a sonnet about it.
it's just gonna sit there. your constant companion. obligatory progress and a deadining pace of responsibility.
I'd tell you to hold on tight and it will all be over soon.
but really you should get up and begin to stand on your own. because this, my darling, is the long walk home.