I think that there might be 21 flavors of heartbreak and they all taste like something floating in the public restroom. I haven’t tasted all of them, yet, but I am sure they don’t get any better. It’s funny because initially I thought, “Wow, this is so absolutely disgusting that it can’t possibly get any worse.” That just isn’t the case. Each is equally as difficult to swallow. Each is equally acrid and nauseating. And I can’t believe that there’s still more to come. Each taste is a new, but, nevertheless, obscene type of bitterness. It's 1) bitter because of the ending you didn’t see coming, 2) bitter because there was an ending at all, 3) bitter that you seem to be hurting more than the person you love, 4) bitter because you have to face the truth about the relationship as it was and as it is, 5) bitter because of all the injustice and pain you went through that never got resolved, 6) bitter for staying with someone that wasn’t able to admit that there is no difference between intentional and unintentional hurt when you are the receiver, 7) bitter because you did not pay attention to warning signs, 8) bitter because that person wasn’t able to love you the way you needed them to, 9) bitter because you blame yourself for a premature ending, 10) bitter because you blame them for a premature ending, 11) bitter because they didn’t want to try to work things out, 12) bitter because they let you blame yourself when it was a farce, 13) bitter because maybe you left too early and were too rash in purchasing that plane ticket, 14) bitter because when you did they didn’t ask you to stay or tell you that they weren’t ready to let you go, 15) bitter because you had to shut them out of your life completely in order to let go of the hope that would just prolong the pain, 16) bitter because they won’t tell you anything you need to know, 17) bitter because you are left to deal with the fear of losing a part of your body to illness and they are living their lives healthier than they were when you met them, and 18) bitter because you can’t stop yourself from crying when you wake up each morning as you relive the disturbing reality of their absence. That's 18. That's where I am today.
Bitter sorrow 19) – 21) are yet to be experienced. I suppose that I should count my blessings as there are only three more subtle shades of bitterness that I have to have shoved down my throat before I can face the day without missing him; three more heaps of heartache to survive before I can not wonder if I could have done something differently; three more psychically painful meals of shit on a stick before I can stop asking myself if he has any regrets and if he loved me at all. I can’t wait until I get there because maybe then I can start tasting something besides bile.
I can’t wait for the day to come when I don’t rise with tears in my eyes and a pit in my stomach because I miss him. I can’t wait for the day to come when I don’t think about him for 24 hours straight. I can’t wait for the day to come when, if I do think about him, I think of him fondly and comically, the way I did when I first met him. And most of all, I can’t wait for the day to come when I can let myself acknowledge that he did love me in his own way and that it doesn’t really matter, anyway.
How is that for a depressing excerpt from my autobiography?
In truth, I just can't be bothered to hide the truth today. Things are not bright and sunny. Things are dark and sickening. I haven't slept for more than two hours each night for over a week. I should be thinking about me. I should be thinking about you. I should be thinking about music. I should be focusing on my future and all the opportunities I have in front of me. But, I don't. I think about him. It's cruel and evil and masochistic, but even as I beg myself to stop, I can't. I have too much to flush out, to sort out, and so many perspectives from which to view it all. I am in hell. But fear not, I know it will pass - I know it's just a phase - par for the course, but I feel bad because, today, I have nothing to offer you. I am so sinfully caught up in self-pity that I can't even make you a spinach burrito.
Please forgive me, and may we all get a good night's sleep.
On a positive note: I am thankful for impermanence, because even though it leads to loss, it also leads to healing as nothing, not even the bitter flavors of heartache, are allowed permanence.
Yours (whether you like or not),
Ima T. Rying
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4 comments:
Things will be better once today is better than yesterday TMWMMM
THAT is fucking bullshit!!
Let me say more..I am just as bitter, jaded, and heartsick as 8 months ago or some time like that..its like living in hell where you have to experience the same pain over and over again!
but, on a better note, I hate everyone around me YET still can pretend to hold a smile on my face
Heidi, I want to let you know that one year after I wrote that I was given the opportunity to see him again as he came to NY. I chose not to. But just knowing that he was that close to me set me off to that place where you are now. I went from feeling strong to feeling like throwing up and punching someone. It only lasted two days and then I felt relief and I realized how far I had come. Today, almost two years later, I am dating high caliber men - the kind that don't leave you when you are down. The kind that stick by you. The kind that actually know what love and heartache is all about. The kind that want what I am looking for. Hang in there, sweetie.
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