Sunday, 3 April 2011

How to mend a broken heart.

I know - I'm supposedly 'gone' but my other blog (yes, there is one) is just too 'themed' for this kind of entry. So I'm just going to shout my story into the ether and listen for an echo...

I've had a hard week. The hardest.
I've been rejected (and for some peculiar reason, that L kind of hit on, I have it in my head that this has never happened before) by somebody I'd... invested my hopes in.
Rich... untrammeled, as this tongue is, I can't find the words to describe the nuances of this particular strain of agony. For hours at a time, I'd be OK... and then I'd remember... and that horrible, sick, shocked, empty feeling would hit me with the force of a train. Monday, I successfully navigated through a day at work, only to suddenly, irreparably break down as I pulled onto the M67. Thursday, I made it to 4pm, where upon my mind started to wander...and I sat facing my computer screen in perfect silence while a pool of mute tears collected on the desk. Who knows what happened on Tuesday and Wednesday... my robotic alter ego and I switched places. Where was I? Oh, asleep upstairs, I guess.
I read the self help books (from the specific 'mend your broken heart' to the abstract 'ancient art of stoic joy'), I went to the gym and ran until my veins pumped battery acid. I couldn't reason through the pain... and I couldn't distract from it. By Friday I felt number than ever... like a largely empty shell... terrified to engage with the world lest the memories of my loss flood back. Oh and they did, as ever. What a hopeless place this is.
At days end, Friday... I left work and headed for the mall. As I was hurtling along the freeway, I noticed a car up ahead... a Scirocco. Oh, here we go... It was like that moment when you stub your toe... when you know you've done it, you know it will hurt, but there's that split second before it actually does. He always said I should get a Scirocco. And the wave of freshly remembered pain is coming.... He doesn't love me! He doesn't want me! It hurts no less than ever.
Without even realising it, I have craned a little to look at the driver of this vehicle as I draw level. He feels my eyes and cranes back. Argh. I look quickly away and speed up.
As for what happened next, I'm hardly sure of the sequence. I drove on for several miles, with the Scirocco speeding up, slowing down, changing lanes, overtaking, undertaking, pulling in front, dropping behind... all the while trying to catch my eye. Oh no, I thought... he thinks I was checking him out. This is embarrassing... and like I often do when embarrassed, I giggled... whilst making happy exclamations of weirdo and perv to myself.
And then... a traffic jam. His lane moved faster than mine... I watched him be carried reluctantly away... and I didn't think weirdo, perv anymore. I thought love, come back to me.
I forced my way across lanes and back again, edging closer, irritating en masse. The jam eased and I sped up and up. Where are you?
And there he was... he'd been waiting for me (as much as one can, in a moving vehicle).

This tale doesn't end with us pulling off the highway together and falling into each other's arms. I turned off... and he didn't follow. That's OK. I'll never see Scirocco man again... but I owe him the greatest debt of gratitude. He changed something in me. He reminded me that I'm not a plain, insipid creature who's last chance at love just tanked. I'm the girl you spot across two lanes of traffic, who can spark something, anywhere.
And the wave of perfect love I felt for this nameless man eclipsed all others.


Anonymous said...

eloquent at the very very least........ good writing, may want to pursue it, seems like you have a knack

Anonymous said...

Your writing is enjoyable to read.

I can offer no higher praise.

Anonymous said...

seems random, but i have been struggling with asking a guy i like "out" for fear of rejection. I tlod myself to do it yesterday but today, after reading that blog, i think i should do it. life goes on, right?

Anonymous said...

That was beautiful.

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Anonymous said...

I arrived in research of apple seed suicide and left reminded that love is real.

Arebours Guzman said...

I too arrived to read about apple seeds, and I'm now leaving with the pungent neccessity to live.

BBOSS Music said...

I think I just had the same experience as a few others. I came here for the apple seeds and got drawn into your story of heartbreak and healing, an abandoned internet relic on a dusty, abandoned blog. I wonder if you know about this. I wonder if these comments ever reach you. I wonder if you're happier now. I hope so. Thank you.

Edd said...

Thank you for teaching me to try again.

Anonymous said...

Didn't expect to end up so engrossed in this blog after searching for apple seeds. This blog is schizophrenic, disorganized and yet inexplicably human. Thanks for the read and hope you are doing well now :)

Anonymous said...

What is life but a series of inexplicable events haphazardly chained together, with just the faintest hint of order and meaning, enough to make you keep going, to keep living, to keep being in a void of non-being?

Today I learned about apple seeds, and then some.