Loves Lost are Still Love That Matters
How it happens...we don't always see it approaching, then, "Bang!" You feel that pull of love; indescribable, painful pleasure. Ugh, what torment through happy moments.
Some loves last a life time, fraught with the pinnacles and pitfalls bringing closer the bond, if you survive to get to the calm, the good, the respite (in one another).
Other loves are but a season (or two, or three...) and leave a mark so deep, a wound maybe, that others pale to that memory. You see him in a crowd, a movie, a dream, a flash in another you hope to see return--the inquest in your eyes.
There are maxims meant to bolster the gutsy overcoming of a love lost. Some help you to 'fake it till you make it' but some day comes one day sooner than you are prepared to experience, the void.
Mumsy lamented to me she should have told me to "shop for a husband", Nana instructed Sharon and me to "put your price-tags on", and the world said, "Be All You Can Be!" That last one might have been the Navy.
Aphorisms for self esteem and self power and self guidance.
All nullified by a heart severed, a dream dying, a languishing ballad playing in a loop, and a cigarette burning in an ash-laden, coffee-encrusted mug.
Aphorisms for self esteem and self power and self guidance.
All nullified by a heart severed, a dream dying, a languishing ballad playing in a loop, and a cigarette burning in an ash-laden, coffee-encrusted mug.
Autumn and Spring scent the way for the melancholy of lost loves for me. There was a time when I had to be by some body of moving water with pen and pad in hand, take-away coffee within reach, and a cigarette dangling between my lips flicking streams of smoke up my nose to free myself. I'd follow this ritual several times a day; writing sappy rubbish not fit to remember; taking breaks to act normal enough not to alert the Others of my sadness and ritualistic smoke-soothing. I'd intersperse my smoking/writing/java imbibing/water searching habit with drumming to Tull, TOOL, and George Abdo.
This tragic return to a long-forgotten habit was a coping mechanism due to a 2006 heartbreak by a man I knew ever-so briefly.
Soon, I was found out.
Now, I had to face Those-That-Cared.
Daddy was between Cancer Survivor and Cancer Victim in those years. He admonished me with glassy, blue eyes fixed in denial. I had let him down. I saw my weakness in his gait as he left me standing under the the back awning hood.
That was then. I took 6 months to socially-smoke my way out of the debacle (that was what it was referred to...still is).
That was then. I took 6 months to socially-smoke my way out of the debacle (that was what it was referred to...still is).
Smoke free once more.
Still enjoying coffee.
Have I overcome my "you-pick-badly" assessment assigned by Daddy? Not sure.
I do, however, deal with remembering those I loved differently. I see them as part of me to be remembered and even thanked; they helped to shape me, they helped me to experience parts of life I no longer wonder about, and they loved me in every way possible to express it. And, I never doubted it.
Today, I heard a song that I find impossible to listen to without tears.
(He--not the debacle guy) would often send me tapes (remember those?) with one or two songs he'd recorded because they said what he was feeling about me. They were always rock ballads. Sometimes by bands I found impossible to listen to, but he liked his 80s & 90s rock, to my punk and grunge. These poignant musical selections were accompanied by 8-10 page, handwritten, heartfelt out-pourings of love (both sides!). Then, there was the conversation that followed.
(He--not the debacle guy) would often send me tapes (remember those?) with one or two songs he'd recorded because they said what he was feeling about me. They were always rock ballads. Sometimes by bands I found impossible to listen to, but he liked his 80s & 90s rock, to my punk and grunge. These poignant musical selections were accompanied by 8-10 page, handwritten, heartfelt out-pourings of love (both sides!). Then, there was the conversation that followed.
Hours.
Phone calls.
Car rides.
Pleas for sleep.
Fighting.
More conversation.
So much time spent talking about "us".
Looking back, I was a jerk to his sensitivities. Maybe I was immature. Maybe we never belonged together.
He was the personification of testosterone; not that I minded that, but he was a lot to handle.
He was the personification of testosterone; not that I minded that, but he was a lot to handle.
Yet, this is the last song he made me listen to (I had heard it many times prior, it wasn't a recent recording), begging me to come home.
So many years later, loves between us, and I can still feel the loss of what we hoped would be...
How's It Gonna Be by Third Eye Blind
I'm only pretty sure
That I can't take anymore
Before you take a swing
I wonder what are we fighting for
That I can't take anymore
Before you take a swing
I wonder what are we fighting for
When I say out loud
I wanna get out of this
I wonder is there anything
I'm gonna miss
I wanna get out of this
I wonder is there anything
I'm gonna miss
I wonder how it's going to be
When you don't know me
How's it going to be
When you're sure I'm not there
When you don't know me
How's it going to be
When you're sure I'm not there
How's it going to be
When there's no one there to talk to
Between you and me
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be
How's it going to be
When there's no one there to talk to
Between you and me
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be
How's it going to be
Where we used to laugh
There's a shouting match
Sharp as a thumbnail scratch
A silence I can't ignore
There's a shouting match
Sharp as a thumbnail scratch
A silence I can't ignore
Like the hammock by the doorway
We spent time in, swings empty
I don't see lightning like last fall
When it was always about to hit me
We spent time in, swings empty
I don't see lightning like last fall
When it was always about to hit me
I wonder how's it going to be
When it goes down
How's it going to be
When you're not around
When it goes down
How's it going to be
When you're not around
How's it going to be
When you found out there was nothing
Between you and me
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be
When you found out there was nothing
Between you and me
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be
How's it going to be
When you don't know me anymore
And how's it going to be
When you don't know me anymore
And how's it going to be
Wanna get myself back in again
The soft dive of oblivion
I wanna taste the salt of your skin
The soft eye love of oblivion, oblivion
The soft dive of oblivion
I wanna taste the salt of your skin
The soft eye love of oblivion, oblivion
How's it going to be
When you don't know me anymore
How's it going to be
How's it going to be
How's it going to be
When you don't know me anymore
How's it going to be
How's it going to be
How's it going to be
