—Your Ex-lover Is Dead
Live through this and you won’t look back….
—Your Ex-lover Is Dead
Live through this and you won’t look back….
Graceless lady you know who I am
You know I can’t let you slide through my hands
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away…..
I went to my back porch to smoke. There are no lights back there unless you trigger the security lights, but we’ve figured out where to stand to keep them from coming on. There’s an alley in front of me and then the back porches of the people on the other side of the block. I can’t see shit…
It’s a funny little thing falling and being in love with someone. It is, literally, a turning point in one’s life. And nearly everyone has experienced it at some point in their life or they will.
When you go through the motions and you trespass on your hearts own goodwill when you know well enough to let it go and move on, you’re forced to just…deal.
To let go of those dreams and hopes you had together. To cling tightly to the memories of resounding happiness. To cling so tightly because you’re just not sure you’ll ever have that or find that again. How could you possibly be lucky enough to experience that and have that with more than one person in a lifetime?
Sometimes the hardest part can be wishing for an absolution to some of the pain you have experienced whilst being in love and getting just that. Because sometimes with that absolution comes the knowledge that it’s just not working anymore and you know if you continue down the path you’re on you’re just going to find yourself out to sea drowning.
Sometimes no matter how much you love someone and how much you convince yourself that you can overcome any and all obstacles life throws at you, you’ll come through it on the other side together, you just can’t.
You can’t always just get back up again and dust yourself off. It feels like a God damn tragedy when it’s happening. It feels like you’re on the brink of combustion and like you will never be the same. As if you’ll never find any resemblance of your old self once you’re alone again. Then the dissolution comes and the existence of ‘us’ is absolved back into an ‘I’.
Somehow, in the muddled transgression of your descent back into singular existence, you hit a low-humming calm of your life.
Where everything you thought you knew or had, suddenly seems like a different person, another life. One you want to usher past, fearful of any lingering memories that might haunt you in your next chapter.
Old habits or traits that might lurk and follow you, creeping into the ink that writes the words as they spill across the pages of your life. Fearful they will douse any flicker of hope you might muster up.
This unsettling calm cannot be escaped. It cannot be tricked or deceived into doing or being anything other than what it wants and needs to be.
The time to let go, to heal, and to move on.
Close the chapter, young girl.
You, in all your meek and naive merriment of first love, have blossomed into a woman, no longer this young girl.
A time in your life to settle for no less than what you deserve, and to give those you love and sometimes those you don’t know, the kindness and love that filters through your very DNA. Life is too short for anything else. Especially once you’ve reached the shore of this placid lake that lies flat in front of you. At some point, you’re going to find some wide estuary that will take you out to the great depths of the sea. You’re going to fight your way through the mangroves and marshes of your life, and there you will find it. Glittering with bountiful possibility.
You have to wade out into water eventually, because even if you don’t, the tide will take you with it some day, and if it’s strong enough, you’re not coming back to this part of your life. To this part of your world….
Someday you’ll be captain of your own ship, master of your own sea, and siren of your own mythical life.
Right now, for instance.
The thing about always wanting the absolute best and refusing to settle is that when you finally find what it is you’ve been searching for - when you reach that highest ledge - your life will never be the same. You’ve taken the red pill. You’ve emerged from the darkness of Plato’s cave. The world…
I have spent the better part of the day cleaning and organizing my room and bathroom.
And they feel soooooo much better.
I had kind of just let shit pile up because when I moved in with my mom again I did not plan on staying this long, but seeing as how we’re moving to Florida in a few months we both agreed it doesn’t make sense for me to get my own place again here.
So I wait til we move to Florida, until then I have to make do with this cookie cutter tiny bedroom. It’s better than no bedroom at all though!
But my room is so clean and organized now and I’m so damn happy. Also, everytime I clean, I mean every time I get rid of stuff.
I have literally moved one time every year for the last 10 years into a new place. I’m really effin tired of moving, but since I have moved 10 times in the last 10 years it’s definitely taught me how to let go of stuff I just don’t need.
Plus my dad was a bit of a hoarder. Not like one of those whom you see on tv that has like 10 dead cats under an old sofa, but he would find random things when he was out doing photography or at peoples houses painting and he would think they were cool and take them.
He amassed quite the collection of just….randomness. When he went into the nursing home he had been living with my sister and her boyfriend. We had the very daunting task of going through his possessions in his bedroom and the 30 or so boxes of his stuff in the garage. It took an entire week of working in shifts. We found some really awesome stuff and split up into piles what we all wanted to keep, what was to be donated, and what was trash.
Those little bits of randomness we all liked, like gnarly pieces of wood he found when he was camping, or old giant picture frames and window frames, and bobs and bits from old houses, were divided up and we all have a little bit of his randomness to hold onto.
That seems like a lifetime ago now that I think about it. It was nearly a decade ago come to think of it. I can hardly believe how much time has passed since then and everything that has happened as well.
What makes it harder to believe is that it’ll be 4 years next month since he passed away. Nothing makes that reality any easier.
I miss sitting with him and listening to music and going through his photography more than anything in this entire world. We would literally spend hours and hours doing that. The amount of photographs, negatives, and slides my dad had when he passed away was completely staggering. My sister has held onto them which has become a very sensitive subject between her and I, but I am hoping she’ll come around to her senses at some point and give them over to me so I can take care of them and go through them again and organize them. I have a plan for them so we all can enjoy them, but even 4 years later she won’t stop being controlling when it comes to his stuff and clings to it. I get it. I do, because we all lost him. But it aggravates me because that was never her connection with dad, it was mine and it was something I still treasure now as much as I did when I was younger.
It will just take time I guess.
Well I guess this just turned into a Dad post so I’m gonna stop here before I actually start crying.
All in all, I’m super happy my room is cleaned and organized.